


Last Place to Find Home - Part I

by friendlyneighborhoodfairy, SnowfallBreeze (friendlyneighborhoodfairy)



Series: Fairy Tail Conquers Abusive Pasts [3]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anonymous Sex, Coming Out, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Freed screams at him, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Hook-Up, I Made Myself Cry, Internalized Homophobia, Laxus's brain is a fucked-up place, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Child Abuse, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Shameless Smut, fraxus, headcanon: all the Dragon Slayers are gay, mirafreed bffs, more than once, turns out Freed does have a breaking point when it comes to Laxus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:23:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodfairy/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodfairy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodfairy/pseuds/SnowfallBreeze
Summary: Freed loves Laxus, but gave up on dating him long ago, taking other lovers. Meanwhile, Laxus is doing everything to deny his attraction to Freed, Ivan’s words about f*gs inscribed on his brain. Sensing his frustration, Mira persuades him to sleep with a stranger—and secretly sets him up with Freed. Unfortunately for her good intentions, catastrophe ensues.TW:homophobic slurs, internalized homophobia, and verbal child abuse (a few flashbacks: I’ll note them so you can avoid if you need).





	1. Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> My next multichap! With romantic angst, traumatic childhood, smut with emotional baggage, and gay Dragon Slayers—basically what you can expect from me lol. _This one is already complete._ So I won't take forever to update, woot.

The job was the kind Freed enjoyed, with forethought and strategy, not merely brute strength. Blackmail had occurred and someone had died; the family hired them to catch whoever was discovering secrets nobody should have access to.

They stumbled by pure accident on an eavesdropping girl who fled through a solid wall when they noticed her. Aha.

As the team gave chase, she disappeared in and out of walls, keeping just ahead of them until Laxus growled they needed a plan. While he, Bickslow, and Ever routed her, Freed set a simple jutsu shiki which caged her as soon as she emerged.

She slammed into his barrier, glaring at him in the twilight.

"She's awfully young," he commented as Ever rounded the corner.

Ever shrugged. "I've seen younger."

"Running an extortion operation?" Shaking his head, Freed asked, "Whom are you helping?"

The girl jerked her head in denial.

"You got her," Laxus growled as he and Bickslow arrived in the alley. "Slippery thing."

At the lightning mage's approach, she backed up until the runes stopped her, eyes sparkling with terror. Great: she was afraid of Laxus. Freed was both proud and exasperated.

"We're not going to hurt you," he said, not wanting to be too kind but not wanting her to have a heart attack either. "Just answer our questions."

She focused on the mouth of the alley for a moment, then found Freed's face. He watched her silent communion, expression flashing through half a dozen emotions. She settled on timid determination.

"I don't believe you." Her reedy voice made her sound even younger.

"We intended to stop you," Freed sighed. "Now that we've done that, we won't do anything else."

"Promise?"

Freed raised an eyebrow at Laxus.

"As long as you don't try anything, we promise," Laxus told the girl.

"Shake on it."

"You won't get me to take down the runes," Freed snorted.

"Then I'm not talking," the girl replied.

Rolling his eyes, the rune mage turned around. "Ideas?"

Removing his visor, Bickslow said, "Damn, she's only twelve."

_No way she did this alone_.

As if in answer, the hair on the back of Freed's neck stood on end. A sudden rise in magic power: he and Laxus both whirled, scouring the darkness.

"Oi!" Bickslow shouted.

Freed twisted back to find his jutsu shiki disappearing, the girl running through another wall. Before he could do more than raise his sword, orange flashed around them ( _the color of Laxus's eyes,_  some absurd part of him noted), trapping them in the alley. Runes.

"There!"

Ever pointed at a shadow fleeing the alley mouth. Without hesitating, Bickslow shot his dolls off in pursuit.

As soon as they passed through the orange light, they crumbled. Dust, in an instant.

Bickslow let out a pained yell.

Electricity flying along his skin, Laxus made a run at the barrier.

Standing right beside the runes, Freed had a horrible premonition of what would happen. He had just enough time to punch Bickslow away from himself before the orange runes exploded.

Lightning hit Freed's side and raced over his skin, muscles contorting. Each sharp jerk felt like it was tearing something, but the electricity numbed him too, a deafening roar in his head.

His body ran wild: it was horrifying for Freed, who prided himself on self-control. Right now he was useless to Laxus, useless to his Raijinshuu. He couldn't protect anyone.

Collapsing, Freed registered wet dirt—better than stone, at least—and waited for the charge to dissipate.

He hated getting hit by Laxus's magic. He was forever impressed by what Laxus could do, but he would much rather see it than experience it. Since the beginning of their friendship, Laxus's tight control meant this had only happened a few times.

As the pain subsided, Laxus's voice broke through the hum.

"—ou okay?"

Freed coughed and blinked.

"Yeah."

A hand hovered in front of his face, and after a moment processing the signals coming in from his extremities, Freed accepted the help up.

"Didn't expect that to happen," the Dragon Slayer mumbled, jerking away as soon as Freed was standing. "Good thing you're not burned."

"I'll be fine. I've been through worse," Freed chuckled.

When Laxus huffed in chagrin, his eyes met Freed's, silent apology and forgiveness passing between them. The Dragon Slayer moved to lean against the far wall in his usual lurking pose.

Freed massaged the hand Laxus had grasped, ostensibly because his muscles were still cramping. In reality, he was trying to erase Laxus's touch from his skin. Normally he was fine, but some days the most casual contact got his nerves jumping and brain spiraling off into places it wasn't allowed to go. Laxus was his teammate. Forever. Only.

"Freed, next time could you warn a guy with words?" Bickslow asked, rubbing his jaw.

"Sorry. I didn't want you getting hit too."

"So what is this magic?" Ever tossed a pebble through the orange light and it exploded. "Objects pass through but Laxus's fist didn't."

"They pass through and fucking disintegrate," Bickslow muttered through clenched teeth. "My babies  _hurt_. They're too weak to possess new bodies."

Freed skimmed over the lines of symbols. It was no language he recognized, but there were familiar patterns.

Across the alley, Laxus frowned down at his fist then reached for the barrier.

"I wouldn't—" Freed began.

With a hiss, Laxus pulled back, knuckles bleeding where they'd touched the magic.

A smile dawned across Freed's face. "It's an interaction with your lightning. Can you electrify the barrier for me?"

"Sure." Laxus looked over at him. "The barrier drained my magic power both times I touched it. Just so you know."

"What happens if you don't make physical contact?"

Splaying his uninjured hand, Laxus sent a charge into the orange light and shook his head: no extra draw on his magic power. After a second's hesitation, Freed touched the tips of his fingers to the light.

"Careful!" Bickslow bellowed, but Freed's fingers passed through unhindered.

"Thought so. Laxus's magic makes it relatively safe."

"'Relatively' being the operative word," Laxus muttered, eying Freed's fingers.

Freed pulled back as his hand began to sting. There was a sense of being sucked in: the barrier leeched his magic power at a surprisingly rapid rate, and it took an effort to tear himself away.

"Do you think we can pass through?" Ever asked, staring up at the orange wall. "If we move fast enough, it might only sap a little of our magic."

"Or it might shed all the ethernanos from your body and you'll die," Laxus said.

"I wouldn't risk it," Freed agreed. He unsheathed his sword. "I don't recognize the language, so it might take a while to rewrite."

As Laxus ran a charge through the runes, Freed raised his sword—

* * *

The tip of Freed's sword melted.

Laxus nearly dropped his electrical assault as he saw the metal drip, hearing the others yelp in surprise. Maintaining the lightning, he glared at Freed.

"That doesn't look  _safe_  to me."

Freed frowned, laid down his sword, and pushed his fingers through. Though Laxus would never admit it, his pulse doubled before he saw Freed's fingers intact on the other side. Moving further, Freed pushed through up to his elbows, teeth clenched.

Then Freed's arms ignited.

Laxus barked an expletive. He couldn't do anything, too far away to render assistance. His occupied hand felt like a ball and chain.

"Freed!" Ever shouted, running forward, but the rune mage was already stripping out of his coat and shirt. The flames dissipated when the clothes landed on the ground, leaving Freed panting and staring at his singed skin.

Panting and  _shirtless._

"Not too bad," he said, despite the stretches of pink marring his forearms.

"Good," Ever said. "We don't have anything for heat burns."

Laxus was too distracted by Freed's lack of attire to dwell on the sting of that comment (they did have a salve for electrical burns). Freed's muscles flexed for a second as he shivered, abs standing out against the orange light. His pants sat low on his hips, muscles disappearing below the border of cloth in hard lines, and... Laxus's mouth watered.

As Freed rubbed his burned arms, Ever collected his wardrobe.

"You're such a slob," she teased. "Stop leaving your clothes everywhere."

Rolling his eyes, Freed nodded at Laxus in confirmation and shoved his hands through the orange barrier once more. Everyone tensed for a second until it became clear naked skin wouldn't ignite. Something about organic flesh, Laxus realized, mixed with his lightning.

Still, Freed winced for a moment before he could hide the reaction.

"Where's your—ah." Ever picked up his cravat. "You're so messy, Freed. I don't know how you live like this."

When Freed grunted, Bickslow burst out in a laugh and Laxus smiled. They all knew Freed was neat as a pin.

"I like this jacket," Bickslow commented, picking it up. "What do you think, Ever? Is it me?"

"Not your style at all. Only asshats would wear something so aristocratic."

Laxus snorted in spite of himself.

"Ever, just because you're not doing anything right now," Freed grunted, "doesn't mean you ca—shit!"

"Don't mess up," Bickslow called, but he added, "or hurt yourself."

Freed's knee struck the barrier, pants smoking where they made contact. At least he'd reacted before they caught fire.

Laxus had to inhale through his mouth to keep the smell of singed skin from overwhelming his nostrils. An incessant buzzing wormed into his brain.

"Be careful," he mumbled.

"No kidding," Ever said. "At this rate, you'll end up naked."

Still writing, Freed's voice rose in a growl. "I am not taking my pants off."

Laxus choked, coughing. Freed without his pants. No, wouldn't want that.

"You should keep  _your_  pants on, Ever," Bickslow piped up.

"I'm wearing a skirt, dumbass."

"Yeah, but the expression isn't, 'keep your skirt on.'"

"It can be. You're just being sexist."

Bickslow stuck his tongue out and the two fell quiet, watching Freed's fingers fly over the foreign runes.

Laxus maintained a silent vigil over the barrier. Electrifying it was simple, but Freed's hands were at stake—and possibly his nose: he was leaning dangerously far into the neon light. Laxus refused to be distracted.

Even though distractions were abounding. Like Freed's shirtlessness.

It wasn't often you could get Freed like this. He wasn't self-conscious, just always put-together. Part of that was his personality, but it was also his need to be responsible at all times. Which was why his teammates were teasing him so mercilessly.

Taking a hard breath, Laxus looked away, focusing on his own hand, much rougher than Freed's lithe, streamlined frame. Laxus's knuckles were still bleeding, though the magic power running through his veins would stop that soon.

Wait, magic power. Freed was dipping surprisingly low.

"Freed," Laxus said in warning.

"I know."

Freed pulled back rubbing his arms. The buzzing ceased and Laxus realized it came from Freed's contact with the barrier. The sound made his spine itch.

"Dammit, I'm going numb," Freed said.

"Your magic…"

"That too."

At his off-hand tone, Laxus glared. Freed's levels had dropped enough for Laxus to feel it, which shouldn't happen in mere minutes: Freed was powerful. This was serious.

"Are you sure it's not damaging you?" Bickslow asked, while Laxus muttered, "I can try blowing it up again."

"No," Freed said, "and no, Laxus. I'm fine." In a much quieter voice, he added, "There's something wrong about this language."

With a determined twist of his lips, he pushed his arms through again, orange sparks flying off his skin. At Freed's pained hiss, Laxus flinched. Bickslow and Ever looked at each other, helpless.

"Laxus, what if you get right next to him?" Ever offered.

Shoving off the wall, Laxus strode closer.

"If this electrifies you, blame her," he grunted, moving his hand right next to where Freed's muscled arms pierced the orange wall.

Freed let out a sigh.

"That's much better. Thank you."

His voice traipsed into Laxus's heart and calmed his pulse.

Laxus could see Freed sweating, the delicious muscles of his back tensing as he messed with the twinkling runes. The pain had to be intense if Freed was exerting this much effort. And trying to hide the fact. Freed's magic power was less than  _halved_  already.

Dammit, Laxus wanted to punch the wizard who'd so easily trapped them like fireflies in a glass and was now torturing  _his_  Raijinshuu's captain. He wanted to punch them really, really hard. Then collect the reward, go home, and drink for a while. Preferably by himself where he didn't have to deal with humans, shirtless or otherwise.

_Come on._

Even as he waited, Laxus's gaze kept landing on Freed like a fly drawn to fruit. It shouldn't mean anything, of course, his brain being diverted down channels of how very attractive Freed looked at the moment: anyone would notice Freed like this. Including straight people like Laxus.

No homo: Freed was one of the few special people he could tolerate.

Blinking, Freed drew a rune with sloppy, unfocused strokes. Since Laxus stood at sharing-body-heat distance, he felt the moment Freed's magic began vanishing faster and faster. Freed's fingers slowed.

Laxus yanked him backward. Stumbling, Freed slumped to his knees before Laxus could catch him, breathing hard.

"Fuck it, Freed," Laxus ground out, crouching at his side.

"It's done." Freed closed his eyes, gulping to catch his breath. "But thank you."

"Wasn't going to let you pass out," Laxus grumbled.

Freed's arms shook at his sides, skin slick and raw, magic nearly depleted. He frowned at whatever sensations swirled behind his closed eyelids.

His arms and hands were an ugly pink and the scent of burned flesh made Laxus want to claw his nose off. He stood, trying to escape it: that smell was worse than blood (which frankly made him hungry), and when it was one of his teammates—when it was  _Freed_ —it set his already edgy nerves sparking off. He needed an opponent to take this aggression out on. He needed vengeance.

When Ever offered Freed a hand, she had to drag him to his feet.

"You're finished?" she asked.

"The barrier is still there," Bickslow said, as if Freed hadn't noticed.

Glancing at Freed's triumphant, too-pale face—a face he could trust no matter what—Laxus strode through.

His teammates gasped, but then the Dragon Slayer was standing on the other side and Freed flashed a smug grin.

"I neutralized the effects," Freed explained as he leaned on Evergreen's shoulder, following with unsteady steps. "I've never seen that language, but once I figured out the syntax, I just had to start crossing the right particles out."

"Nice." Bickslow clapped him on the shoulder, his voice filled with the same boggled pride they usually had for their Freed. They didn't always understand what he said, but it was obviously smart and cool and had worked.

Bickslow turned to Laxus.

"Smell anything?"

"The girl and someone else."

He struck a direction down the dark street and the four set out, but when Freed nearly toppled, Laxus slowed in concern.

"Shit." Freed's mouth twisted. He despised being weak.

"Has anyone considered that they're way ahead by now?" Ever asked. "No offense, Freed."

"Sorry."

"Didn't I just say 'no offense'? Here, take your clothes already."

"You're not enjoying the view, Ever?" Bickslow teased. "I thought you were into men."

"She's only into  _one_  man," Freed corrected.

Evergreen sputtered. Hearing a rise in her heartbeat, Laxus grinned. His nose had a good idea who Freed meant.

"Freed's into men too!" she finally managed.

Laxus's neck went taut at the words and he heard Freed's swift exhale. This wasn't a safe topic. Not when they were both present.

Oblivious, Bickslow retorted, "Freed isn't going to check himself out."

"How would you know? I check myself out all the time," Ever shot back.

Laxus's hands curled into fists.  _This isn't happening._

"Would someone lend me a hand?" Freed interjected desperately.

His fingers shook visibly and he couldn't keep a grip on his garments. Bickslow helped him get his arms into his shirt and jacket while they began walking slowly.

"You get to do your own buttons," Bickslow said. "And there's no way in hell I can tie your cravat-thingy unless you want to be strangled."

"It's an ascot, actually."

When Freed attempted the first button and couldn't even line up the seams, he gave up with a sigh.

"This way you get to show the town your pecs," Evergreen said in consolation. "This is the hour when single men are walking home from work…"

"Stop it," Freed said flatly.

"Does someone already have a date waiting back home?" Bickslow cooed. His tone made Laxus want to slap him. "You never tell us these things, Freed. Sometimes I wonder whether you'd even let us know if you had a boyfriend."

"Please stop," Freed said, head hanging, sounding almost despondent. "We're on a job."

This was the one topic Laxus and Freed could never broach around each other. The mere subject of dating made Laxus upset and Freed anxious. Freed's apprehension made Laxus more pissed, and his anger made Freed that much more nervous, like prey waiting for the predator to pounce. It was a vicious, awful cycle Laxus avoided at all costs.

He never wanted to think about Freed's love life again.

Tense and bitter, Laxus sped up his pace, forcing the others to shut up and follow.

"Freed can't go this fast," Bickslow protested.

"Ever's right: we're behind." Even as Laxus said it, he glanced back at Freed. "Can you keep up?"

The relief in Freed's face was heart-breaking. Like Laxus had just saved him from torture.

"I'll be fine," Freed said, giving him the same old smile. Back to known ground.

When the team broke into a jog, all conversation ended. The only sounds Laxus could hear were their scudding footsteps, Freed's harsh panting, and his own crashing heartbeat.

* * *

Laxus was a hulking shadow at the bar, taking up a good meter of space where he hunched over a tankard. Mira assumed the mug was empty: she couldn't think of another reason why it deserved the dark, terrible look he directed at it.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sidling over.

Laxus glared at her, but Mira just raised an eyebrow.

"Is your drink too strong?" she taunted.

"As if."

A silent, deadly sort of anger hung in the air around him. It was for him to be alone instead of off in a corner surrounded by his Raijinshuu. There were circles under his eyes and something strained about his expression.

Mira propped her hand on her hip.

"Who is it?"

Laxus stiffened. "Who?"

"You've either fought with someone or fallen in love. Which is it?"

"Neither," Laxus growled, meeting her gaze for too long.

She couldn't help the corner of her mouth curling in a smile.

"You've fallen for someone, then."

_About damn time._  Laxus stared at the bar as if ignoring her would make her go away. He should know better.

Leaning on the counter, she said, "Fine, I'll phrase it your way: you're sexually frustrated."

"You think I'd have trouble finding a fling if I wanted?" he snarled, the sudden anger confirming her suspicions.

"In my experience, it's not about ability or attractiveness as much as people think."

He relaxed a little.

"So why haven't you slept off your frustration with someone?" she asked. "Unless you  _are_  pining after a specific person."

Laxus narrowed his eyes. She was hoping he would admit who he was crushing on, and that it would be Freed. She'd been waiting to see them together for so long now.

When Laxus remained adamantly silent, she said, "If I had someone I wanted but couldn't be with, I'd get over it by finding someone else to date or fuck or whatever. Someone casual."

"You offering?" he sneered.

"No." She looked him up and down in obvious judgment. "You're not my type."

"Go pester someone else."

This was going to take real meddling.

"I know someone who would sleep with you," she said.

Laxus raised both eyebrows.

Setting him up with Freed directly could be risky, but Mira was sure as soon as Laxus found himself in Freed's arms, he'd realize what was obvious to everyone else: the two men were a matched set.

Nor was she lying about Freed taking casual lovers—that was the only kind Freed took. His heart was otherwise occupied, dating others never overcoming his adoration for Laxus. So he dated and fucked and was forever lonely, and Mira hated it.

"One of our guildmates is a relaxed lover," she said carefully. "No strings attached. And you're definitely their type. If you're interested."

"You saying Fairy Tail has a resident whore?"

Her palm connected with Laxus's cheek before he even saw it coming.

"Fuck, Mira!" He put a hand to the red mark and glared at her. "What the hell?"

"Don't you dare talk about our guildmates that way," she hissed.

"Are you attempting to look demonic? That glare might scare small children."

"As I was saying," she said, "if you want a casual hookup, I know someone who'd do you."

Laxus sat back in his seat, trying not to look interested.

"Any reason you're pimping your friend out?" he asked.

"You seemed like you were in need, and I like connecting people for everyone's mutual benefit." She grinned. "Like I said, you're very much their type."

"What's their sex?" Laxus growled in a low mutter.

"Er…"

Uncertainty fluttered through her. Freed had never told her how he was so sure Laxus wouldn't date him, just that it was one hundred percent certain and he refused to ask Laxus out.

But Laxus was obviously not straight and he couldn't be homophobic. He didn't bat an eyelash at Gray and Natsu—he'd been the one to out them. He jeered at Cana for her walk of shame last week, but said nothing about her wearing Lucy's clothes. So why should sex matter?

"Dick or cunt?" he sighed, rolling his eyes at her slowness.

"Dick."

There was a pause.

Then he said very, very quietly, "Okay."

She was so used to Laxus balking she blinked in surprise.

"Well?" He waved a hand. "Who is it?"

"I'll check with them first. If they're game, I'll set things up."

"Okay. Whatever." He glared down at the counter.

It was too easy. Freed and Laxus were finally getting together.

As she turned away, thick fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Mira, be fucking discreet."

Dark threats lurked in his eyes. Mira stared back.

"Of course."

She wouldn't risk someone screwing up the two men's chance at happiness.

Letting go of her, Laxus went back to glowering at his drink.

**Chapter 2: Imperfections**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how Mira doesn't even consider Laxus might be straight; his attraction to men is that obvious to her.
> 
> Sometimes I think I'm very clever, like a fly drawn to fruit...Freed is FRUIT...okay yeah bad puns. _Freed_ back appreciated. (Laxus: "I would love to get Freed on his back" lolol what is wrong with me)


	2. Imperfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full of self-hatred and justifications, Laxus goes to meet his anonymous hook-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** for the f** word and internalized homophobia.

Laxus hated himself with every step he took, but he didn’t turn back.

The anonymous ‘lover’ he was meeting this evening was a mistake—but less of a mistake than the one he actually wanted to make.

Laxus was a strong mage. Had become the best of the best. The world was at his feet, and yet the one person he wanted he couldn’t have. This hookup would help settle things in his heart once and for all, and help him stop wanting Freed.

He’d get himself fucked up the ass, then decide whether he really wanted this as much as he thought he did.

He hoped it was satisfying enough he didn’t feel the need to do it ever again.

Then he’d stop noticing his best friend That Way. That awful, sick, forbidden, wonderful, affectionate way. The way Ivan would’ve beaten him for.

When Ivan left, Laxus had rebelled: wore loud colors, refused to talk to adults if he didn’t want to, got a tattoo Ivan would’ve hated—anything and everything to show the world he was his own man. To reject the weakness he was known for in childhood. He did everything he could to become the best mage possible.

He used to think if he were powerful and good enough, Ivan would come back. Another, angrier part wanted to get better to spite Ivan. He would be the flawless son Ivan desired but no longer deserved.

He’d challenged every terrible thing Ivan ever said to him, both because he hated Ivan, and because those words weakened him—had made him cry and bleed for many years.

But he never challenged this: the hatred for two people in love. To be gay was to be fragile. Even if Ivan was wrong about everything else, Laxus could feel this one was true. The tiny part of him that wished to be gay was the part that weakened him.

Laxus didn’t want to be weak anymore.

So he focused on his strength. Power was a drug that kept him from needing anyone. Kept him from getting hurt again; kept anyone else from dominating and controlling him. He’d never fallen in love—never had the luxury. Isolation and control were walls between him and the slivers of emotion buried within himself that he refused to touch.

But his feelings were breaking through despite everything. Laxus couldn’t stop his pulse from racing around attractive men anymore, nor stop images of hot guys from filling his brain every time he wacked off.

He knew fags couldn’t be great wizards, knew he shouldn’t be this way. Every time he woke up with an aching erection and Freed’s—or any other man’s—face fresh in his mind, he despised himself a little more. He’d fought harder against this part of himself than anything else.

Fruitlessly. He still yearned.

Today he would sink himself in that mire, a one-day rebellion against sense and reason. Most people let themselves slip once in their life, right? Contradict their ambition, be lazy, do something they regretted. This evening would be his sweet regret.

After tonight, he’d stop looking at other men. Stop aching for their touch. Stop waiting for one to notice him. Tonight, he would finish with that shit forever.

It would be like trying cheap beer: one sip and your curiosity was sated.

Laxus didn’t recognize the place where Mira sent him. The other wizard, whose name he still didn’t know, wanted to be circumspect, for which Laxus was grateful.

No familiar scents marked the air as he knocked. A voice said, “Come in.”

Pushing open the door, Laxus saw a shadowed room, stepped inside, and was plunged into total darkness.

“Fuck!” he shouted, lightning crackling across his skin in lethal warning. It didn’t light up the black, but it would electrocute anyone who tried to touch him. When nobody struck, he called out, “Who’s there?”

“Relax. I just wanted some anonymity at first.”

“Why?” Laxus growled. He still didn’t recognize the man’s voice, and there were no smells to speak of. The place had been magically scrubbed of life.

“Someone tried to hurt me once,” the man said stiffly. “Mira is sweet and means well, but this is too good to be true. I’ve heard how you feel about other men. Why are you really here, Laxus?”

Fuck.

“Why don’t we sit down  _ calmly _ and I’ll tell you?” Laxus countered, feeling defensive for a whole new set of reasons.

After a pause, the man sighed.

“There’s a sofa five paces ahead of you and to the left.”

As Laxus strode forward, he heard the door close. It couldn’t get any darker, but he felt caged. He could maim someone without vision, of course, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

When he sat, a gust of air brushed past his knee and he reached out, fingers running across cloth. His host yelped.

“Shit. Don’t do that,” the man admonished.

Laxus smiled: it was nice knowing the man was as human as he was.

“So why are you here?” the man asked.

“Mira already told you.”

“While Mira and most of Fairy Tail might think you’re fine with this, a little bird told me you’re strongly opposed to men sleeping with other men. Very strongly opposed.”

A little bird.  _ Freed. _ A piece of Laxus’s heart shattered silently.

“I did say that once.”

“Are you here to injure me?” the man asked, voice dangerously silky. Then, sharper, “You’re not the one who attacked Gray, are y—”

“What? Of course not! I would never do that to a guildmate. Or anyone. Other people can put their cocks where they want.”

They didn’t have to be perfect. Not like him. That’s why he kept his views to himself: he didn’t care what others did. Plus the guild would collectively flay him if they found out. The place was a homofest.

Laxus sat up. “Wait, Fullbuster got attacked?”

“Someone tried to jump him a few nights ago. They didn’t get anywhere before he hit them with a faceful of ice. But they fled before he saw who it was.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yes. Even joked it’s good the man escaped so Fairy Tail doesn’t have to deal with a murder trial. Natsu is swearing violent retribution on whoever would dare touch his boyfriend.”

“Naturally.” Natsu was a hothead. And, okay, Dragon Slayers in general were hotheads. Laxus could imagine how he felt: if anyone tried to assault Freed…

“Well,” the man said, and Laxus jumped: the voice had moved much closer. “It’s a relief to know you’re as good a person as I thought.”

Laxus clenched his hands, battling unfamiliar emotions. Nobody had ever said something like that to him. People thought well of him as a wizard or leader or Makarov’s grandson, but never as himself. Never just for Laxus.

“Mira said you’re trying to get over someone?” the man asked.

“We can go with that.”

The man inhaled so close Laxus could feel his breath.

“Mira sure enjoys setting people up,” the man chuckled. “What exactly do you want?”

As he spoke, the man’s palm slid down Laxus’s chest. Laxus’s heart sped up, throat catching. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but not this—not breath on his cheek and touch on his body without him doing anything to earn it.

“Honestly?” Laxus said, “I want to fuck and forget. I don’t want holdover later. Do whatever we feel like together this once and never again.”

“You’re curious about men.” His partner’s hand slid lower.

“No,” Laxus said. “How about we don’t go into my reasons for wanting this?”

“Okay.”

The acquiescence came much easier than Laxus expected. Of course, the hitch in the man’s voice indicated he was getting as turned on touching Laxus as the Dragon Slayer was. But Laxus grabbed that hand as it found the buttons of his shirt.

“What are  _ you _ here for?”

“Didn’t Mira say?” the man asked.

“Just because you don’t want to be in a relationship doesn’t mean you want to dick around with anyone.”

“Of course not. I’m here because you’re rather attractive and I’ve noticed you for a while. You intrigue me.”

The boldness made Laxus’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Laxus.”

There was a puff of warm air on his mouth, followed by a pause just long enough for him to pull away.

He didn’t.

His pulse accelerated as those lips pressed against his own. The man’s mouth was heaven. Their tongues met in a slow, desirous exchange that filled Laxus with an enchanted lightness. The tight hardening of his cock begged for more, but there were other feelings too, even stronger. Unfamiliar happiness unfurling inside him.

He guessed where his partner stood and only fumbled a little when he ran his hands over the man’s sides. Warmth surrounded Laxus’s legs as the man straddled him, pushing Laxus into the sofa and roving deeper into his mouth. There was passion in every way the man moved, fluid, strong, cupping Laxus’s face with warm and tender hands.

Laxus’s heart wanted to explode. This was what he’d hoped for, this thing that was swiftly taking him over, this almost...joy.

It would get all those beautiful temptations out of his head.

**Chapter 3: Living the Impossible Dream**


	3. Living the Impossible Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus and anonymous Freed go all the way, and both break themselves over it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** for the f** word again.

Freed was panting under Laxus’s hands and the Dragon Slayer hadn’t done more than run his palms over Freed’s chest. Gods, how had he earned this? Laxus Dreyar inviting Freed to touch him, letting out an eager hum as Freed did to him what he’d wanted to do for so long.

Except Laxus didn’t know it was Freed.

He’d blinded Laxus and muted all scents because, shamefully, he really was afraid what Laxus would do when he found out who he was meeting.

But Laxus was sucking his way down Freed’s throat, making it hard to focus on caution. Freed quivered and touched Laxus’s cheek, his hair, his perfect face. Laxus wanted a one-night stand. Would he still want it if he knew this was Freed?

“One more thing,” Laxus gasped, pulling away from Freed’s energetic fingers for a moment. “I want you to fuck me.”

Freed shot hard, heart skipping beats erratically. He never in his life thought he’d hear Laxus’s hoarse voice demanding Freed to fuck him. And he also knew Laxus didn’t want this. Knew it with every part of his broken heart. Something else was going on.

“Are you sure?” Freed managed, his voice modulated by the magic.

“We’ll never mention it again. But for right now, yes, I want this.”

Those words hurt terribly. Like that time Laxus had screamed at him and then said nothing about the incident ever again.

_For right now._ Why did Laxus close himself off all the rest of the time? Freed would treat him gently, reverently, whatever he wanted. Just as long as Laxus let Freed love him. Every day, every hour.

Freed’s hands still roamed over the Dragon Slayer, powered by the fire in his blood despite the ache in his chest. When he tangled his fingers in Laxus’s hair, Laxus grunted, an exquisite look of wanting crossing his face. Tugging Laxus’s head to the side, Freed sucked on his neck, earning a groan.

Oh fuck, Freed wanted him to do that forever.

If this was what Laxus wanted, for now…then yes, Freed would give it to him.

Trembling hands sought the buttons of Freed’s shirt: Laxus was still blind. Still didn’t know whom he’d asked to fuck him…

“The darkness,” Freed said with trepidation. “Do you want me to—?”

“No. It’s hot when I don’t know who you are.”

Despite the fact that anonymity preserved their friendship, Freed loathed that answer. Laxus didn’t want to know who was touching him. This wasn’t special to him.

_It is to me._

Pushing Laxus’s jacket off his shoulders, Freed attached his lips to Laxus’s once more. Freed would show him paradise. He’d prove Laxus wrong about ‘fag shagging’ and every other awful thing he’d ever said.

When Freed slid Laxus’s shirt off and flicked his nipple, Laxus whimpered. Smiling, Freed did it again, leaning down to lick and suck and bite at the nub. He spent several minutes doing nothing else because Laxus’s surprised moans were too good—addictive, like the taste of his skin. Laxus’s hands playing over him only intensified Freed’s need.

Finally, Laxus pulled Freed flush against him, forcing Freed’s head up. Laxus was shaking.

“Too much of that,” the blonde panted.

Freed smiled, lighter than air. Wrapping his arms around Laxus’s shoulders, he kissed Laxus’s face instead, up his scar, licking back down the jagged mark. Laxus’s eyes fluttered shut.

The Dragon Slayer tilted Freed’s chin with his thumb and slid his teeth over Freed’s skin. At Freed’s stuttered breath, Laxus bit down on his neck, slowly deepening his grip as Freed’s heart beat faster and faster. Laxus’s fangs dug into his skin as if to consume him, to devour and possess.

Freed didn’t know anything could feel so wonderful.

Cock throbbing, Freed wondered how Laxus was so good at this, so good at _him_ , at working Freed into a ball of frayed threads and broken resolve. The Dragon Slayer actually chuckled, a low rumble of pleasure as if he knew how much this was affecting his partner. It hit Freed: Laxus could hear every spike of his excited pulse. He was reading Freed. Trying to please him…

Holy shit. Holy shit, they really were doing this.

He led Laxus to his lips and they kissed like the world was seconds from ending, teeth clacking and breaths mixing in harsh pants. Freed didn’t notice what Laxus was doing until his shirt suddenly opened and Laxus’s hands graced his bare chest.

“Damn, you’re ripped.”

Freed almost jumped out of his skin. Fear wound around him: Laxus would figure out who he was—but no, that was appreciation in Laxus’s voice. Besides, if Laxus hadn’t recognized him yet, he wasn’t likely to. It wasn’t like he was familiar with Freed’s body.

Laxus felt around every muscle and rib, admiring Freed in his blindness. The small caresses were sensual but ordinary, but they lit Freed’s entire world. Laxus touching him would haunt his dreams forever.

Laxus’s low growl; his desperate sucking on Freed’s neck; the way his fingers were both quick and careful, desirous and awed. This was a new landscape that Freed had considered out of reach.

“Fuck, I want you,” Freed grunted, working Laxus’s belt off. He ground down onto the Dragon Slayer and both of them groaned at the sudden friction. Laxus tipped his head back, eyes wide like he’d only just discovered his body could feel this good.

“Shit,” Laxus muttered. “You’re good at this.”

Freed touched him everywhere, wanting Laxus to feel every pleasure and taste every flavor of ecstasy Freed knew how to give. He discovered what made Laxus shudder; the way Laxus surrendered desperately into Freed’s hands.

It wasn’t without reciprocation: far from it. Roving to the sound of Freed’s moans, Laxus explored every corner of his partner’s body with fingers and lips. And teeth, too, when he realized how much the other man loved that. _Gods_ , did Freed love that. At some point, Laxus slipped his hand down the back of Freed’s pants, tracing his ass. Freed stopped breathing for several seconds.

They were a storm of pent-up passion, released in tangled tongues and grinding hips.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, Freed unbuttoned Laxus’s pants, nudging him horizontal on the sofa and climbing his chest.

“You still want this?” he panted in the Dragon Slayer’s ear, dragging his fingers up the man’s thighs.

“Yes,” Laxus said, sliding his pants off and rutting up against Freed’s body. “Oh fuck yes.”

Freed divested them of clothing. Hovering over Laxus, Freed took him in, from sweaty chest to stiff cock centimeters from Freed’s own. Even in the throes of pleasure, the hard lines of Laxus’s body stood out, beautiful and strong.

Laxus thrust up against him and they both melted, sounds mingling as they rubbed across each other over and over, mindless. Freed didn’t know how the hell he was going to hold out. Hands braced on Laxus’s shoulders, he could look down and watch their every movement—see just how real this was. Him and Laxus. Frotting and gripping each other.

Freed loved this powerful body. Laxus had become a giant when puberty made him shoot upward, but he was always in control, even around much smaller people like Asuka, whom he could crush by accident. His fighting style was head-on, because he had the body to handle it. Freed loved watching the way he flexed and moved: sharp, hard, and unstoppable.

That body now writhed and captured him, belonging to Freed tonight.

Freed’s pulse felt like it was going to break right out of his throat, mouth dry from staring at the beautiful sight of their cocks skimming across each other. Laxus’s blind eyes wandered toward the left side of Freed’s chest as if he could see the beat, a grin pulling at his lips.

_Laxus’s smile. Shit, I am so gone._

He gave Laxus a kiss—which turned into a longer kiss when Laxus held him down and sucked Freed’s tongue into his mouth. Freed groaned in pleasure, noticing the way Laxus’s hands quivered on his skin.

“Never…felt…so good.” Laxus gasped out.

Freed kept up the slow friction while he searched around for lube. He didn’t contemplate whether this was Laxus’s first—he didn’t want to know, and at the same time, he _knew_ Laxus had never done this with a man before. Careful as he’d be anyway, he was intent on being gentle, causing no pain and only pleasure.

Laxus had to enjoy this so he’d realize something this tender could never be wrong.

Freed didn’t give verbal warning before sliding his slicked fingers down to Laxus’s ass; to be fair, Laxus was chewing on his lip. As Freed slipped a finger inside, he expected Laxus to startle, possibly wince, but instead Laxus let out a groan and jerked Freed into a hot kiss with both hands cupping Freed’s face.

He was so impatient and desperate Freed squeezed another in and began to move with care. Laxus’s face scrunched up briefly, but then he was sucking a hicky onto Freed’s jaw. Exploring Laxus’s fervent reactions, Freed stretched him, his own desire building—not in his cock, because _fuck_ it couldn’t get more intense down there, but in his chest, where tormenting hopes had been bound up in tight self-control for so long.

“Oh shit,” Laxus gasped, shaking. “Shit, that, do that…”

Moving his hand again, Freed shifted his position over Laxus to reach deeper, their cocks dragging across each other. The double stimulation had Laxus almost crying, begging softly, “Please…”

“Almost,” Freed murmured, realizing he could come right now with the man he loved making those sounds. Gods dammit, control had never been so difficult.

He stroked Laxus’s cock in long, languid motions as he continued, until the Dragon Slayer was a puddle of heat and happiness. Pulling away, Freed grabbed a condom and Laxus rolled onto his knees so his ass was open to Freed.

“Oh hell,” Freed breathed, so overwhelmed by everything he had done and was about to do. “This is how you want it?”

“Yes.”

Settling between Laxus’s legs, Freed pressed in slowly, just the head, clinging to Laxus’s hips to ground himself. Freed’s cock was throbbing, every bit of pressure making him shudder, but he had to hold on. Wanted to hear Laxus let go.

When he was halfway in, he pulled out again, easing his movements, so afraid to hurt his lover. So desperate for Laxus to enjoy this.

“You can do more,” Laxus said, sounding like he was barely breathing. His arms were thick bands of steel where they tensed against the sofa, his fingers curled and shaking.

Slowly, but with increasing certainty, Freed began thrusting. Oh gods. _Oh fucking gods._

Everything was so tight, squeezing him in warmth and lighting up every nerve he possessed. Freed was gasping in seconds, sweat dripping down his chest. Laxus drove his hips back to meet Freed, moaning a continuous stream of swearwords into the sofa cushion.

When Freed rubbed across his back feeling over ribs and muscle—mostly muscle—and Laxus responded by trembling under his touch, Freed suddenly wished Laxus hadn’t flipped around. He wanted to see Laxus’s expression. He wanted this moment forever in his memory.

Still fucking into his lover, Freed leaned over the sweaty back and brushed through Laxus’s hair. The gesture turned Laxus’s head to the side a little, but the Dragon Slayer put a hand over his face before turning his head into the sofa once more.

Freed wanted to shout. Despite all they were sharing, Laxus wanted to hide from him? Afraid to let someone see him like this. Did he ever give up control?

Freed noted the change to Laxus’s breathing and straightened, earning a loud groan. There was the spot.

Laxus shook and tensed around him. Fuck, he was right there, on the edge, and Freed was right there with him. As Freed moved into that pleasure deeper and deeper, he raked his fingers over Laxus’s back and felt the muscles tensing like steel bands.

“Let go,” Freed whispered, splaying his hands over Laxus’s warm skin. “Let me do this for you.”

He moved with as much precision as he could, not just for Laxus’s sake but because focusing on someone else was the only way he could hold himself back from climax. Though titillating Laxus wasn’t very helpful with self-control. Exploring the planes and ridges of the Dragon Slayer’s gorgeous body; obeying his gasps; following his furtive movements…

Laxus’s fingers knotted into painful-looking fists as he groaned and shoved back against Freed—and then the tension was pouring out of him in one long growl, his body arching.

Freed held him, this precious man, as the pleasure rocked through him. Damn, an orgasm from being entered on his first time? Freed wasn’t sure whether that showed how turned on Laxus felt or how good Freed was, but both answers were a feast for his soul.

Freed continued to fuck him slowly, but he only got another thrust or two: Laxus’s moans, the boiling pressure on Freed’s cock, and the fact that he was making love to Laxus Dreyar were too much.

Freed felt like he was soaring as he tumbled over. His body filled with heat and he curled around his lover, powerful sensations washing over him. He wanted to memorize it: the feel of this ass, the pace of these breaths, the warmth of this touch. Everything inside him was set free.

The moment stretched into a small infinity.

It took every shred of discipline he could muster not to cry Laxus’s name.

When he pulled out, rubbing Laxus’s back, Freed needed a moment to work sound out of his vocal chords.

“You’re _fantastic_ ,” he panted, meaning every word. “That was the best I’ve had in… Wow.”

As Freed tied off the condom, the Dragon Slayer rolled around and sat up, satisfaction on his face. Freed loved that overwhelmed smile. A vulnerable chink in Laxus’s armor: his delighted realization that he was good at making love and pleasing another man to completion.

Laxus’s cock was still rock solid and wet with need—suddenly Freed felt even more skilled. He knew a few men who could do that, come from bottoming and come again right after if he gave their cock attention. But never on a first time. It took knowing someone’s body, being able to turn them on that much…

He slid onto the floor, crouched between Laxus’s legs, and in one swoop took Laxus’s entire dick in his mouth.

“Holy shit!” Laxus shouted. “Y-You’re skilled at everything, aren’t you?”

Freed smiled around cock and focused on relaxing his throat. Palming Laxus’s balls, he glanced up, seeing ecstasy written on his lover’s face.

Freed set a quick pace, with Laxus clearly trying not to thrust into his mouth. Freed wrapped his hands around the man’s hips and gave an encouraging jerk; he wasn’t unused to deep-throating. Laxus still couldn’t unleash himself enough to fuck Freed’s mouth, but Freed’s practiced tongue had him throwing back his head a minute later.

“Ffffuck,” Laxus gasped, drawing out the ‘F’ and speeding Freed’s heart up a ridiculous amount. “I’m…mm…comin—”

Taking him in all the way, Freed swallowed around his cockhead, heard Laxus’s cry, and felt liquid hit the back of his throat. Freed’s eyes fixed on that powerful face above him as Laxus’s expression melted in vulnerable adoration. Mouth slightly open, awe painting his features, he looked like a reverent supplicant.

He looked happier than Freed had ever seen him. He looked at peace.

Drinking it all down, Freed pulled away as Laxus softened, not caring how the last drops tasted as they hit his tongue. He only had one chance to consume Laxus like this, and he wanted everything.

“Damn,” Laxus breathed, collapsing against the back of the couch as Freed licked him again and rose to settle beside him on the sofa.

Freed wanted nothing more than to curl up together and enjoy the perfect silence of a contented mind. Fuck, he wanted to keep going.

After a few more panting moments coming down from the high, Laxus sat up. Reaching out blindly, he found Freed’s face and caressed his cheek, rubbing his thumb gently across Freed’s lip. Freed stopped breathing.

“Thank you,” Laxus muttered.

The words were edged in so much relief Freed almost told him right there who he was. But Laxus rose, taking a cautious step while he searched for his clothes.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this,” Laxus said. “About me. Please.”

Freed put his face against the cushion as pain rocketed through his insides. _No. Come back to me._

But Laxus was waiting for an answer. And Freed never let him down.

“As you wish.”

Freed was proud of his steady voice. His ability to bind things inside himself was what made him able to be whatever Laxus needed—why he was captain of the Raijinshuu.

Swallowing around his heartbreak, Freed locked away his sorrow and disappointment. He could only blame them on himself.

* * *

Laxus trudged the whole way home feeling like he’d been hit by a train.

He’d never been so sated and hopeful. For that single hour, the world disappeared and he’d been himself for the first time in his life. He had trusted the arms that wound around him. The tenderness in the man’s affection made him feel like someone cared about him, just a little, for just a moment.

Laxus could almost imagine what it would be like being loved.

Even with all that running through his system, his footsteps were plagued with fear. He was a fag now. He could practically feel the eyes on him, judging him and marking him: _degraded_.

Fuck them all. It was worth it.

Laxus was always lonely, always different. Could hear, especially when he got those stupid Dragon Slayer senses, all the things people said when they thought he was out of earshot. _Ivan's runt. Weak. Arrogant. Loner._

Freed and the team were the only ones who understood him, made him feel at home.

_Freed._ That ship had sailed long ago, though Freed did care for him in other ways as teammate and friend. Somehow Laxus hadn't lost that, even though he'd fucked up everything else with Freed. Loyal, wonderful Freed somehow forgave him after everything.

Despite listing his failures as he walked in the house, Laxus couldn’t get the green-haired wizard out his head. As he climbed into bed, he realized why.

He could smell Freed on everything.

In the room, on his sheets. Even on his clothes. Freed was _everywhere_.

Freed had been over last week and, being Freed, had cleaned and decluttered. But still…it was overpowering. Taunting him. Freed’s human scent was tinted at the edges by the tang of metal and musk of hairspray. A distinct smell that reminded him of long quests; of standing with Freed at his back as they fought; of their rare hugs; of Freed’s smile.

The smell hadn’t been this full this morning. Now it was enough to make him high.

The only difference since then was having sex with another man. Now the smell of the man he couldn't stop thinking about was intoxicating him? This wasn’t coincidence.

Sleeping with a man was supposed to get him _over_ this. He was supposed to be able to move on now. Curiosity was sated.

Of course it wouldn’t be that fucking simple.

As Freed’s scent continued winding around him, indelible, Laxus ripped his comforter in half and threw it across the room.

He felt the depression sink through him, dragging away his smile, the contentment he felt earlier. Sleep did not come as he stared up with Freed swirling around him, thick on his tongue.

Fuck. He could feel his anger in the hot pressure behind his eyeballs. He couldn’t do this. Wanting Freed wasn’t allowed. The very act of desiring made him unworthy.

If he really felt what he thought he did, he should be the best leader, protector, and friend possible. Not dream of soiling the man.

He deserved to be tortured like this.

The next morning, Laxus stripped his bed, washed everything, and rubbed his skin raw in the shower. No hint of the stupid scent could be left to distract him. Not a trace of Freed. No matter how much it hurt to erase him.

The gay chapter of Laxus’s life was over as of today.

**Chapter 4: The Other Lover**


	4. The Other Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed explains to Mira the source of his and Laxus's tension about sexuality. Meanwhile, Laxus has strange questions for Gajeel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** for the f** word again. The terrible vocabulary is going to stop soon, I promise.

The next morning, Freed came into the guild and dropped into a seat at the bar. Mira skipped over to him, noting his weariness but that he looked otherwise normal: coat pristine, hair in place, no marks on his skin.

"So?" she asked, grinning, "how did it go?"

"The evening was amazing." His weary smile chased the words into a sigh. "Thank you."

"Baka, don't thank me: tell me what happened."

So he did, leaving out graphic details but telling her everything else.

"…and then he left," Freed finished, slumping. "And here I am."

Mira recognized a brave face when she saw one and took his hand.

"He really asked you to—?" Her voice rose to a squeak.  _Laxus asked you to fuck him?!_

Freed nodded. "He quite liked it, too. I still don't understand why."

"Because you're that good, my dear," Mira chuckled.

"No, I don't mean…" He blushed. "I don't understand why he asked."

"Maybe because he wanted it? These aren't hard questions. Why are you so concerned?"

"You don't understand: Laxus is straighter than two infinitely parallel lines."

Mira blinked. "What?"

"He's straighter than Natsu is gay," Freed amended.

"Ah. How do you know that with so much certainty?"

He swallowed and looked down. Mirajane almost squeezed his arm again. Almost. He liked to keep things locked inside—much like Laxus, actually—and too much sympathy made him reserved and emotionless. With things like this, Mira had to coax him out of his stoicism.

"Has he told you this, or did something happen?" she asked.

"A long time ago…we had a conversation." Freed's expression darkened. "He made it quite clear what he thinks of  _faggots_  like me."

Mira choked. She'd never heard Freed say that word. Her best friend, called  _that_. She wanted to make something explode.

"He said he'd rather fail a mission than be considered a 'dirty homosexual,'" Freed went on. "Said it was disgusting, two men 'pretending' to love each other. Hypocritical fucker."

Freed closed his eyes as pain and anger creased his face, collapsing in on himself for the space of two seconds. But when he looked up again, the anguish vanished with an abruptness that scared her.

"Laxus saying all that." She swallowed. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it."

"What brought it on?"

He winced. "I did."

"Freed," she chastised.

"It's true. I just couldn't keep my damn mouth shut." Freed huffed a sigh. "Laxus was saying something about dating. He kept saying 'girls,' and I was stupid enough to say, 'don't forget boys—you never know who you'll date.' He got a scary look on his face, so I tried to give him a way out by saying it was okay if there weren't any boys pretty enough for him. That's when he took a swing at me."

"What?" Mira shrieked, anger curling around her windpipe.

He gave her a wan smile.

"He missed, Mira. Relax. Laxus is fast, but I'm faster. You can stop looking so scary."

Startled, she let her magic go before she transformed.

"That's when he started swearing and saying how wrong it was for two guys to fuck each other," Freed continued. "I was furious, tried to argue with him. And then I asked him what he'd do if he had to work with someone who was gay. I was pissed as hell. I felt—"

Freed cut off. As he shook his head, Mira held her breath.

"He said he didn't care what other people did because it didn't matter if they were weak little cowards. Just so long as it didn't rub off."

He closed his eyes, which was good, because Mira couldn't stop two tears from leaking down her cheeks.

"Freed," she murmured, reaching across the bar to take his hand, not letting go this time. "Gods, Freed. That must've been awful."

"As fights go, I've been in worse," he whispered. "But none of them ever hurt so badly."

She tried to sniff quietly but Freed looked up, tightening his grip with a sad smile. Damn Freed tried to support everyone. He never let anybody be there for him. Which was precisely why he needed Laxus.

_Fucking Laxus._

"If I'd known," Mira said, swallowing the knot in her throat, "I would never have set things up. I am so sorry."

"It's fine, Mira. I'm glad, for whatever that's worth." He stared up at one of the high windows. "For all that he said back then, I'm still an idiot for him. I've seen him be incredibly kind. He looks out for kids, especially kids in bad situations. He beat up a woman we saw whipping a small child, put the kid on his shoulders, and didn't let her out of his sight until he knew she'd be safe.

"He gets even more pissed than Bickslow or me when someone tries to come onto Ever. He's protective and caring—of the people we work for, of Bickslow and Ever. He wants acknowledgement for his strength and can be an ass about it, but he only uses that strength for others."

_Except when he attacked the guild._  But Mira knew Freed and the Raijinshuu saw sides of Laxus nobody else did. With his attachment issues, Laxus didn't want people perceiving him as warm-hearted, but he was always there when it mattered, trustworthy and faithful.

"So. Anyway." Freed put his hands to his cheeks as if to wipe away the terrible, broken smile there. "This was the only way I will ever have him, and that made it worthwhile."

"Freed."

Mira took a deep breath.

"Your story only tells me Laxus is homophobic, not necessarily straight," she admitted.

"Don't get my hopes up," Freed said with a desperate chuckle, gaze hollow.

"I've always thought—" She stopped. She didn't want to inflict more heartbreak on him, but she had been so certain. "I've always thought Laxus was attracted to you. It's in his eyes."

Freed issued a strange, choking cough. It took her a moment to realize he was laughing, biting his lip and staring at the ceiling.

"Dear gods, if only that were true. This was a one-time thing. He made that very clear. Even if it wasn't, he doesn't know it was me. I'm pretty sure that would change everything."

"But he's trying to get over someone," she stressed. "That didn't strike you?"

"So there's a woman he loves out there." Freed shrugged bitterly. "I've stopped caring. It's too painful to care."

"You didn't ask?"

"I don't want to know."

Mira pressed her lips into a line. Whatever Freed said, this behavior was un-Laxus-like: the big Dragon Slayer didn't like people in general, let alone specific individuals. Freed, Evergreen, and Bickslow were his only friends.

So the fact that he'd fall for  _anyone_  was significant. And Freed was one of the few people in the world Laxus liked and respected.

The moment's silence lengthened, sad and final, and comfortable, too—their friendship was that way. Sympathetic when it could be; quiet when it needed.

Freed pulled a book out and Mira settled across from him with some paperwork Master neglected. As he skimmed rapidly through indexes, she cocked her head.

"What are you doing?"

"We encountered a strange script on a job last week. I'm trying to identify it, but so far there's nothing."

"Freed the scholar is baffled," Mira teased, getting a smile out of him. "Have you asked Levy?"

"Not yet." Leaning back, he ran his fingers through his hair and Mira caught sight of a bruise just under his ear.

"You did get marked up." She squinted. "Damn, Freed, did he bite you?"

"Where?" he asked, blushing—which was answer enough.

When she pointed, he twiddled a line of script over it and the hicky disappeared.

"I had to wash everything this morning," he muttered. "I wrote a script to keep him from smelling me while we—you know. But I realized later I wrote it to only apply at that physical location. So I no doubt smelled strongly of lightning Dragon Slayer before cleaning up."

"What if he smelled you on himself?"

"We're around each other so much he probably can't even smell me anymore. It's the other Slayers I'm concerned about: they'd notice if he and I suddenly smelled a lot more like each other. I just have to hope."

Mira sighed. Freed always did this: he claimed he and Laxus didn't have something between them, and then talked about how familiar they were _._  Like it was normal to be on a Dragon Slayer's whitelist of smells. Was she the only one who could see how attached the two were?

"I should leave before any of the Slayers get here."

"I thought you cleaned everything?" Mira asked, saddened by the sudden departure.

"I won't know it worked until they're either making fun of me or not. You know Fairy Tail."

"I do," she said with a wry smile.

Freed turned to look over the mostly-empty hall. For that brief moment, he looked lost, the pain in his eyes endless. But even worse was the hope he still clung to. She was so afraid that one day his heart would get broken for the last time and never be okay again.

Then the expression was gone and he was only Freed again: resilient, selfless, and faithful.

Only. When he deserved so much more.

When he left, Mira went back to her routine, watching people cycle through the guildhall. Waiting for one particular face.

Just before noon, Laxus Dreyar strode in with a scowl. The façade was too perfect: there was a storm below the surface.

No cracks showed in his flawless armor, no weaknesses by which to get to him. But that didn't last long.

"Shit, Laxus, did you eat a bar of soap?" Natsu asked as the lightning wizard stalked past his table. "Smells like disinfectant is coming out of your ass."

Lightning-fast, Laxus grabbed the fire mage by the throat and squeezed.

Caught by surprise, Natsu gasped and shuddered, unable to breathe. Others nearby barely had time to gape before Laxus threw him across the hall. Twisting around, Natsu used Laxus's motion to flip onto his feet instead. Fists up, the fire dragon grinned—but got no words out because he started hacking.

Laxus had actually choked him.

Gray leapt to his feet with a snarl. "Wanna go?"

Mira groaned. The guild took even more daily damage since Natsu and Gray started dating, as they fought alongside each other as often as against each other. If they stayed together and had kids, Fiore would weep.

Jumping out of the way of Gray's ice, Laxus continued stalking across the hall while Gray glared. To the relief of everyone else, Gray turned to check on, and make fun, of his boyfriend.

Mira returned to her original activity, observing Laxus as he headed to a table near her. He stomped up to Gajeel, and the iron wizard narrowed his eyes.

"I got a question for you." Laxus jerked his head toward the door.

"I'm not going—"

Gajeel yelped when Laxus grabbed the back of his collar. The Iron Dragon swung around with a furious growl, the two of them on the point of breaking into a fight—but Laxus headed toward the back exit without even a glance over his shoulder.

Gajeel glared at his back, then smashed his fist into the nearest pillar, following in Laxus's wake.

Observers of the altercation went back to their drinks and conversations, but Mira was glued to the spot. Something was definitely up. It didn't take Freed's IQ to know it had to do with last night.

But there was no reason she could think of for Laxus wanting to speak with Gajeel. Gajeel couldn't, could  _not_ , be the person Laxus had fallen for. Sure, they were both tough and rather similar, but they hardly associated with each other. Laxus couldn't fall for someone he hardly knew when Freed was right at his side: even he couldn't be that stupid. Besides, Laxus had to have heard Gajeel had a new datefriend.

Or maybe he had, and that's why he was trying to get over him?

None of it made sense. Mira desperately wanted to follow, but they'd hear and smell her long before she caught a word.

* * *

When Gajeel emerged behind the guild, he found Laxus standing with arms crossed and leg jittering.

"What?" Gajeel asked, scowling on principle. Laxus always deserved it.

"Got a question for you about mates."

Gajeel couldn't keep the surprise off his face. He coughed. "Mates? Seriously?"

Mouth twisting, Laxus said nothing, and Gajeel realized Laxus felt just as awkward about the topic as he did. He motioned to go ahead.

"Did your mate's scent get stronger to you?" Laxus asked.

"When?"

Laxus shrugged and muttered, "Whenever."

"I guess." The iron dragon rubbed his chin. "No, I don't think so."

"Which is it?"

Gajeel thought over the last two months with Levy: his senses became more attuned to her with practice, since he always seemed to be following her scent or the sound of her voice. A habitual thing, just to be around her.

"I got better at picking it out," he said definitively.

"Is there anything that makes it stronger?"

"No…?"

Laxus gave him a flat look. "In other words, when you fuck."

"Whatever," Gajeel spat. "Fuck you."

"No thank you," Laxus growled, the sound reverberating deep in his chest.

Against his will, Gajeel was intensely curious about this mate of Laxus's. But Laxus would never volunteer information, he knew that much. He decided to try for a trade.

"Look, a dragon—Dragon Slayer—can shag anyone, right? That's not a mate: a mate is when you have an emotional connection. It has nothing to do with shagging; the other person might not even know how you feel. Slayers tune into that person over time. You get more used to finding their scent and stuff when you like someone."

Gods, his face was burning.

"If it's mutual, that's when scent-sharing happens. You don't even have to screw. It's pheromones out something? Then, if it's a mutual connection  _and_  you sleep together, you'll start smelling like each other in a  _big_  way." Gajeel coughed. This was so painful. "You haven't noticed any of this? Like on the Salamander…?"

"Yeah, I noticed." Laxus scowled as if the smells were Gajeel's fault. "Damn, this is messed up."

Gajeel shrugged: it was life. Although he supposed it might be different if he could remember a time  _before_  the draconic senses and shit.

"So." Gajeel crossed his arms, subconsciously trying to look bigger. "Why are you asking all this stuff?"

Laxus's eyes pinned him, flashing with indecipherable emotion.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because you're asking me about dragons and mates," Gajeel said obviously. "When's the last time you had a conversation about that with someone else?"

Laxus hmphed. And strode away—showing off a bright hicky on the back of his neck.

"You're welcome, you stupid lightning rod," Gajeel growled.

The whole thing made him want to find Levy and make sure she was covered in his scent, just in case.

* * *

When Gajeel strode back in, he looked confused and irritated. Mira waited, but Laxus didn't follow.

Sorrow wriggled in her gut. Freed…Laxus… This was never going to end happily, was it?

Gajeel remained at Fairy Tail only until a certain script mage appeared—then he grabbed her arm and hauled her out the door. Oh dear.

* * *

Laxus's steps were hurried. It made zero sense. He fucked a stranger and all of a sudden he could smell Freed everywhere? The only thing he could think of was that his body was rejecting being with someone else, trying to tell him he was sleeping with the wrong man. Well, good timing. He wasn't sleeping with a man again.

Freed's scent was gone but only because he'd washed himself so many times. Dragneel was right, the fucker. Laxus could smell soap on his own skin several hours later.

He needed to understand what was going on. He needed to know he hadn't instigated something biological with his…rash actions. That he wasn't going to wake up smelling like Freed Justine every morning for the rest of his fucking life.

Hell no. He could not survive that.

He could still be straight if he wanted: there would be a way out of this. The world was off-balance, tipping out of his control, but Laxus would damn well get it back. Controlling his heart was his specialty.

**Chapter 5: Eureka**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Speculations on what will happen next? ^^


	5. Eureka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levy smells weird; the runes Freed is researching just get weirder the more he studies; and Laxus is torturing his nose with black pepper, while memories of Ivan haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** for verbal and physical child abuse and parental homophobia. Skip the italicized flashback to avoid.

Gajeel listened to her walk up, find her keys, unlock the door, and finally step inside.

"I know you broke in again," she shouted from the foyer.

"Shit! No need to yell," Gajeel exclaimed, rubbing his unprepared ears. "I can hear you."

"Right, I forgot." Against the rustle of coat and shoes, she continued in a normal volume. "You're going to break my window latch, Gajeel."

"I was looking for you. Couldn't find you."

"Clearly," she laughed, emerging into view at last. "I ran to the guild library: Freed had a question about some runes. I didn't recognize them at all, and he actually knew more about them than I did. It looks like some offshoot of Gaya, except it isn't—and I don't know why I'm telling you this because you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"I'm still paying attention," he protested.

"You just listen because you like my voice," she snorted.

"Nothing wrong with that," he mumbled.

Grinning, she wandered over to him. "As long as you stop breaking into my flat."

"Yeah…" Gajeel leaned toward her, frowning. "Come closer."

She walked over and he sniffed—and there it was, that foreign, indistinct scent.

"You smell weird."

She raised an eyebrow. "The only reason I'm not going to flay you is because I know you're talking about draconic stuff."

"Sorry." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "It's a weird mix of things, but it's faint."

"Only people I encountered were Freed and whoever I might've brushed past in the streets."

He pulled her into an embrace, though she remained resolutely standing, making her for once taller than him.

"I don't like it," he grumbled. "It smells mate-y. Like someone  _just_  found a mate."

While she ran a hand through his hair, she studied his face.

"What can I do to make it better?" she asked.

"Don't go away."

"Okay."

She jumped in his lap and wrapped her legs around him before Gajeel could blink.

"I'm a smart woman," she said with a teasing smile. "I know how to change my scent."

Somehow he managed words: "Do you now?"

Without bothering to answer, she darted in and kissed him. Levy had this way of consuming him, completely tying him up and somehow occupying all his limbs and faculties, tiny human that she was. Like the rest of the Dragon Slayers, he usually dated his own gender, but he'd never before met anyone like her of any gender. When she kissed him, everything seemed to click into a place of rightness.

Change her scent. She was a smart woman.

* * *

Amid Fairy Tail's bustle, Freed stared down at his book trying not to notice the lightning Dragon Slayer several meters away.

It had been six days, and every single one he'd had to stop himself from eying Laxus incessantly, wondering what was going on in the man's head.

The Raijinshuu took a job by themselves, and that helped: when they returned, he was less likely to blush every time Laxus looked at him. The Dragon Slayer was his usual silent lurking self, just as he'd been since their childhood. In some ways, that was a relief: Laxus still didn't know it was Freed he'd made love with. Having their friendship remain unchanged eased Freed's irrational anxieties about being discovered.

Also, Laxus was sick, giving Freed an excuse to take care of him. Laxus didn't make it easy, but Freed was stubborn.

They were still friends. Still them. Forever and always. Laxus relied on him; Freed was here for him. Even if the events of a few days ago never recurred, they had years of hard-won trust between them that tied them together. No matter what happened, Freed would stay in Laxus's life.

Freed should count himself lucky: he got to pleasure the man he loved  _and_  could keep the friendship he treasured above all else.

Freed sighed. These were precisely the kinds of thought patterns which made him a slow reader lately.  _Focus, Justine._

Leaning against a nearby pillar, the lightning mage started coughing and Freed held out a handkerchief, eyes on his book. Laxus grunted thanks—but Freed was suddenly too distracted to hear him.

"Found it!" he exclaimed, making Evergreen jump beside him. (Bickslow sat at another table, up to mischief involving his dolls, Natsu's fire, and two beer mugs.)

"You found the normal part of your brain?" she asked snidely, while Laxus asked, "The language?"

Freed nodded at the Dragon Slayer.

"It's the runes we encountered last week." As he pointed at the page, Ever and Laxus peered over his shoulders, the latter keeping some distance for contagion's sake. "It's a script very few people use. Except…"

He skimmed the text.

"Dammit, this isn't the language."

"Right alphabet, wrong words?" Laxus guessed, still glancing over the page.

"Yes."

"Damn. So how'd you get us out of there?"

"Luck."

"He's seen enough languages to know what he's doing," Ever interpreted, and she and Laxus chuckled.

Freed felt blood suffuse his face; he didn't like boasting.

"No offense to your scholarship, but why does it matter?" she asked. "We caught all three wizards."

"The language was wrong," Freed said obviously. "I need to know why."

"You and your puzzles." She tapped his forehead affectionately. "If you didn't find challenges like this, you'd go crazy."

Freed grunted. "Possibly."

Hearing a sniffle, he turned and found Laxus with a hand to his nose, eyes watering as he inhaled. Freed stared.

"Are you snorting pepper again?"

Laxus gave him the side eye, but before he could get words out, a series of powerful sneezes shook him. The sound was loud enough to make several people look over, and Freed could swear he felt a wave of static.

"Damn sinuses," Laxus muttered. "I'm going home. Someone give these papers to Jijii."

Freed held up a hand to take them, but Laxus moved past him and thrust a pair of envelopes at Evergreen.

"What are they?" she asked.

"His mail." Heading toward the door, Laxus called over his shoulder, "Tell him to grow a pair and stop giving my address to the fucking council."

Evergreen grinned at Freed. "Somehow I don't think I'll use those exact words."

"That might be wise." Watching the guild doors swing in Laxus's wake, Freed asked, "Should we check on him later?"

"He'll be fine. If he stops inhaling every sharp scent he can find, his nose will calm down. This is mild: remember what happened that time he got the flu?"

"Believe me, I do."

Freed remembered  _both_  times Laxus had been ill enough for bedrest. Each time, in their childhood and after the Raijinshuu had formed, Freed found the best way to help him was to slip something in his tea to knock him out. He was insufferable otherwise—and an insufferable Laxus tended to affect the weather.

In their childhood, it was easier: Laxus was more open when they were younger. Somewhere in there, he decided his strong-man act should extend to the people who knew him best. He'd fought to keep Freed from seeing him in any vulnerable state; luckily, Freed felt comfortable enough to put his foot down.

And quite literally force tea down Laxus's throat with Ever's help.

Their friendship had settled into a new rhythm as they settled solidly into adulthood, and now he could be at Laxus's side supporting him without the Dragon Slayer feeling his image was threatened. Freed was there when Laxus was weak and when he was strong, and Laxus had finally realized his occasional frailty didn't change anything for Freed.

It would always be this way between them. And it would always be something more now, too. Now Freed knew: the way Laxus's muscles tensed in pleasure, how he tasted, how his face transformed when he came. Nothing changed and everything changed.

This sense of discontinuity, of living two lives, would ease with time, Freed knew. The urge to stare would fade; untimely reminiscence wouldn't make him stutter and lose his train of thought.

Things would return to normal.

But he was going to treasure those memories always. He refused to be ashamed or embarrassed, refused to numb himself or to mourn, turning the memories into something painful. That night was something beautiful, and he was determined to hold onto that no matter what.

No matter who Laxus ended up with or where they went in life, Freed would always have the memory of the one beautiful night he made love with Laxus Dreyar. That was enough.

* * *

Laxus took a shower as soon as he got to his flat. While he couldn't smell Freed right now thanks to the sting of black pepper still filling his nostrils, he wasn't going to risk any hint of Freed remaining on him.

Anyone who came into his flat would wonder if he was torturing himself: his kitchen overflowed with things with overwhelming odors. From acrid to sharp to caustic, anything with a strong smell was his friend. Whenever he went to the guild, he inhaled as many off-putting scents as he could beforehand—it was the abuse to his nasal passages which made him sick. That, and perhaps the knot of stress which wouldn't leave his stomach.

He'd put himself on a regimen to evict Freed's scent completely from his life for two whole weeks. That, he figured, should be long enough for this biological clusterfuck to pass.

After scrubbing all foreign contaminants off his skin, he fixed food, contemplating Freed's conundrum: one language's alphabet paired with another's lexicon—creating a new linguistic carrier for their magic. Someone had to be nearly as smart as Freed to pull that off. If scent wasn't an issue right now, he'd sit and read over Freed's shoulder, not that he'd understand more than half of it. But spells of all kinds fascinated him. He wished he had the nerve to ask Freed to teach him runes. The two of them, working together to learn new magic like when they were kids…

The two of them alone was not a good idea. Not until he'd gotten over this.

How long would it take? How long did these kinds of emotions last? He had things to do, stuff to accomplish. When he pictured his future, he saw quests, contests of strength, and maybe one day taking over Fairy Tail when Jijii retired (or died working, which was more likely). The guild and magic were his life. Plus his team. The Raijinshuu might have families one day, but they'd never stop being his friends.

Love didn't figure into this picture of the future. There wasn't room for it, and Laxus wasn't interested. Despite trying it out on several occasions, dating had yielded nothing but the realization he didn't want a wife or kids. Ivan had screwed him over in that regard: he didn't want to fuck up like his father had, and he knew he would if given the chance. Abuse was, in the end, all he knew.

Companionship had satisfied him enough, far more than any woman he'd tried to be with. His friendships filled any need he might have for other people, if he were willing to admit having such need at all.

All he required was Freed, Ever, and Bickslow nearby, being themselves.

It was no doubt why he'd become fixated on Freed, and it was why he was more and more certain he'd get over it. Freed was…well, his best friend. That was it. It would always be that way. And it would always be enough.

Yes, he was satisfied.

His scent regimen would work; he just had to give it a bit more time. Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

_Seven-year-old Laxus watched through the window as a strange man sat on the bench across the way, fingers twirling as if writing in the air. Occasionally, magic appeared in the air before him, but then he'd cross it out in frustration and start over._

_When Laxus called his father's attention, Ivan didn't stir. Head down over his work, he remained lost among the papers and books spread across the table._

_"Otousan." Laxus finally pulled on his sleeve. "Look."_

_"What?"_

_Ivan's weary tone made Laxus jerk in startlement, but he had his father's attention now. Best not to waste it._

" _What's that man doing?"_

_"Walking," Ivan sighed, looking back down._

_"Not the pretty man: the other."_

_Ivan's eyes bulged._

_"Don't say pretty," he snapped._

" _But he is."_

_Laxus didn't see the slap coming. His ear rang and an ache spread through his skull. Letting out a small cry, he clapped a hand over his mouth, pinning wide eyes on his father._

_"Keep your voice down," Ivan snapped. "Don't call men_ pretty _. That's gross."_

" _It…is?" Laxus stammered. Fear pushed adrenaline through his limbs._

_"Men cannot be pretty. That's not how it works. If you think men are pretty, something is wrong with you."_

_Dumbstruck, Laxus continued to stare at him in wide-eyed confusion._

" _Sex, prettiness—it's all about having children, Laxus. That's all. It's the only reason people are attracted to other people. That's why men don't find other men pretty: two men can't make children. If a man likes other men, it means he wants to be a woman and get pregnant. You weren't born a woman, Laxus; that's a desecration. I know you don't want to be a girl."_

_Eyes wide, Laxus bit his lip and jerked out a nod._

_He didn't know what desecration was, but it sounded bad, multisyllabic bad._

_He knew he was a boy because, well, he just knew. While there was nothing wrong with girls, pretending to be one would be lying. Lying was wrong._

_Ivan sifted through manuscripts again, Laxus shoving down the confusing disappointment in his gut. Instead, he looked back out and picked apart the strange man's appearance, trying to tell exactly what he could've thought 'pretty.' Long chin, blue eyes, broad shoulders. The man obviously worked out like Ivan did. But he wasn't pretty. He was a man._

_Men weren't pretty._

_That made sense. Laxus didn't feel particularly pretty. Prettiness had never figured into the traits he wanted for himself. Strength, height, muscles: those were things he wanted. Those were things which made men nice-looking. (And women, too, apparently? He'd never considered whether women could be nice-looking.)_

_Yes, that was what he wanted. He wanted to look like that._

_Ear still stinging, Laxus rubbed his palm over it. He'd never been hit in the head before, and it scared him a little bit, but he was okay now. Ivan had returned to his work, hadn't checked if he was okay, which meant everything was fine. Otherwise Ivan would be worried. Everything was going normally now. Still, it hurt._

_Hating the pounding in his brain, Laxus slipped away and out of the house, running down the hill toward Fairy Tail. Jiichan would be there. His grandfather could always be relied on for fun and distraction._

**Chapter 6: Another Dirty Secret**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments keep me going. ^^


	6. Another Dirty Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus and his anonymous lover Freed have some unfinished business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any errors; I proofed and uploaded on my phone. (Bad internet is just a thing in my life lol)

**Chapter 6: Another Dirty Secret**

"Mirajane."

The woman jumped, her startled yelp at odds with the threatening stance she struck.

"Yes, Laxus?"

Morning sun slanted across her glaring expression. He'd gotten here much earlier than he usually did. For good reason: no listening ears.

"Who was he?" Laxus asked without preamble.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb," he growled.

She turned her back on him. "He wouldn't like me to tell you."

"How would you know that?"

"Because I know things." Her eyes glinted with malice that shocked him out of his own anger a bit: Mirajane wasn't usually upset at people without cause, and as far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to deserve this yet. He hadn't seen her since the blind date setup.

"Fine," he spat. "If he wants to play it that way, whatever. Tell him I want to meet with him."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"If you have shit to do, deal with it on your own."

Laxus's lips curled up in a snarl. "Why?"

"Because I don't like you right now." She gave an airy shrug.

"What the hell did I ever do to you? This isn't even your business."

"Apparently it is, if you're here talking to me about it."

He took a step forward, and Mirajane came around to face him. Nearly nose to nose, Laxus's voice tightened to a hiss.

"You're the one who set me up with him in the first place. You started this."

Mira glared for a long minute.

"I suppose I did. Fine, I'll ask him. But don't blame me if he's not interested: you're the one who absolutely insisted it would be a one-time thing."

Laxus felt his pulse double.

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"Because he told me," Mira said. "Unlike you, I actually talk to my friends."

Laxus had no clue where that accusation came from, but it didn't matter: he had what he came for.

"Just don't forget to tell to him," he ground out, storming from the guild.

* * *

Freed spent a lot longer setting up his magic this time.

He made it so Laxus would be blind again, and scents weren't just masked, they were removed, so there could be no transference. Not that he expected…well, he didn't know what to expect. Mira made it sound like Laxus wanted to talk, so Freed wanted to listen.

 _Listening? That's it?_  she'd asked. Her words put increasing doubts in his head, thoughts he never indulged in normally. Freed had claimed not to know why Laxus asked a man to fuck him, but maybe it really was that simple: maybe Mira was right and Laxus had agreed for the same reason Freed did—he wanted it.

_So why did you rage at me all those years ago?_

Sitting down on a lone rock, Freed waited in the patch of forest he had claimed.

When Laxus emerged through the trees, his head was bent, distracted. His long gait, the way he held himself, made him so much more attractive than he realized. Freed enjoyed watching him, free to do so here where he was effectively invisible.

Laxus stumbled into the circle of Freed's wards and stopped short, head up, sniffing the air.

That's when Freed saw the circles under his eyes and his harried expression. Worry shot through him and he nearly crossed the space between them to clasp Laxus's shoulder.

But no. Here he wasn't Laxus's friend. Just an anonymous lover.

"So we're still playing it this way?" Laxus asked, gesturing at his blinded eyes.

"Yes."

"I have a question for you." Laxus raked his fingers through his hair, spreading his feet. "Did you do something to me using draconic magic?"

_What?_

Freed knew the instant electricity flowed through Laxus's body. Very few people would sense it, but he knew what to look for—the sharp taste in the air, something about to pop. Laxus felt threatened.

"No," Freed said, soothing, like Laxus was a beast. "I would never do something like that, to a lover or a guildmate. Why do you ask?"

Though his hands remained fisted, Laxus's magic settled.

"Something is wrong with me."

Freed's body rang with alarm. Laxus never said things like that. Even to the Raijinshuu; even to Freed. Things were  _bad_.

"What is it?"

"Someone's…smell. It's clinging to me, and I don't know why."

Freed froze. Oh no.

"I've done everything," Laxus went on, teeth gritted as if the admission were painful. "Everything I know to get rid of a scent. I can spend the entire day alone, but it's still glued to me like sap to tree bark. Nothing gets rid of it."

"Whose?" Freed asked, a tremor running through him.

"Doesn't matter," Laxus barked. "I don't want this scent attached to me anymore. Even on my way here I could smell it."

Fuck, Freed had forgotten he'd leave a trail in the woods. Well, the game was up.

* * *

Standing here, Laxus was free of Freed's smell for the first time in nine days. To his shame, he felt bereft, like an important part of him was missing. He hated that scent, was so fucking happy to be rid of it. And yet he longed for it back.

This had to end.

What made it all worse was that he'd ended up associating Freed's smell with That Night. The pleasure he'd felt, the sense of connection and rightness. It brought up all the dirty things he still dreamed about doing to the script mage…

Meanwhile, Freed was same as ever, busy, efficient, concerned about Laxus being sick. Always the perfect captain, perfect friend, perfect everything.

And what was Laxus? An abandoned hound begging for affection with no idea nobody wanted him.

"So this smell…is a result of me?" the other man asked, breaking Laxus from his thoughts.

"It definitely started here," Laxus growled, motioning between them. "Although how and why, I have no idea. This has never happened to me."

"I confess I'm not learned enough in draconic magic to apprehend the full purport of an olfactory issue…"

The man coughed. Using long words in his uncertainty.  _Just like Freed._  Another fucking reminder. Laxus had to swallow down a bitter smile before regurgitating Gajeel's answer.

"When a Dragon Slayer has an emotional connection with someone, their scents start mixing. It's stronger if they fuck. Even if we had a nice physical connection, we don't have an emotional connection—I don't even know who you are. Plus the fact that it's  _this_  scent… There's no way this should be happening."

There was a stutter of breath. Laxus was grateful the mage hadn't muted any of his hearing, giving him some gauge on the man's emotions. His partner breathed shallowly, as if trying to control a surge of emotion.

"What is it?" Laxus demanded. If he were honest, part of him was worried. They'd had sex: he was allowed to be concerned about the man's wellbeing.

"I just…wondered. Does it have to be a mutual connection?"

"Dunno." An idea popped into Laxus's head. "You in love with somebody?"

"…Maybe," came the soft answer.

"If we're both in love with people, maybe that's what caused it. Some biological interaction causing our scents to blend…"

—Holy shit, how was he even considering this? He was Laxus Dreyar, the Lightning Dragon Slayer, one of the most powerful wizards in the kingdom. He was not—could not—

_I can't love anyone._

"I have no fucking clue," he growled. "Hell, it's not that important anyway. Can't believe I came all this way to bother you."

The other man sighed. "Stop being difficult."

The tone was so perfunctory, Laxus relaxed automatically. People outside the team never spoke to him with such comfortable familiarity.

But hearing the man approach, he stiffened, nervous when one step turned into two, three, four, coming closer…

A hand touched his cheek.

"What are you doing?" Laxus murmured.

"Sympathizing. Come on, Laxus. You can't honestly expect me to believe you don't appreciate a little touch."

"I decide how I feel about things," Laxus said shakily, drawing just out of reach of those warm fingers.

"Why are you so determined not to like this?"

"Maybe I  _don't_  like it."

"Or maybe you don't like being happy," the man shot back.

Laxus's chest ruptured, air disappearing from his lungs.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Maybe not."

Laxus hated that a guildmate he didn't even know was able to see through him so easily. Yet it was a relief, too. Someone understood him and didn't judge.

Even though they  _should_  judge him. For being a spineless, unmanly coward sneaking around getting fucked by other men because he was just that messed up.

This tenderness passing between them was wrong. All wrong.

"I guess I'm as fucked-up as the rest of you homo assholes," he said.

He knew it was coming, but the punch still knocked him sideways. Stumbling, Laxus went down on one knee, arm pressed to his diaphragm. It was a good hit; strategic against a taller opponent. Some part of him was impressed. Most of him just despised himself.

"Hate is a bad color on you, Laxus," the man spat, heart racing so fast Laxus didn't need enhanced senses to hear it.

"Not hate," Laxus coughed. "Other people can do with their dicks what they want."

"You certainly wanted mine a week ago. Does that make you a  _fag_  too?"

Laxus closed his eyes. A longing he didn't understand burst through him, too strong to shove down.

"Yes."

He wanted to be loved. By a man. And if he couldn't have that, he wanted to fuck.  _Fuck and forget._ That's how warped this part of him was. He  _wanted_  to be a fag.

"Why do you think I said I only wanted it once?" Laxus said, strangled, resentment pulsing in his veins. "Had to get it out of my system—"

"Shut up! Why do you say things like that? It's like you  _want_  to push people away."

Laxus rose slowly, unsure why he was letting this conversation go on. Except maybe he was waiting for another punch to land—maybe he kind of wanted it. It was what he deserved. Maybe too some part of him was turned on by being here.

He wanted to stay here as long as possible with the man who had made love to him. The dark, lonely corner of his mind wanted to pretend it had meant something. Pretend that even if he couldn't have it, happiness still existed.

"Look at you," the man said, wilting and sad. "Despite everything you just said, you're aroused. I punched you and you're not even angry. You don't know what you want, do you? It's pathetic."

"Yeah," Laxus said, looking down. "I know."

There was a heavy sigh.

"Fuck you for looking so pitiable," his invisible partner said. "I almost want to hug you. Gods."

* * *

It was clear to Freed that Laxus was carrying around his scent because Freed cared for him. Why Laxus hadn't figured this out, hadn't figured out Freed loved him, and still hadn't figured out whom he was talking to…

Laxus was smarter than this.

But he was clearly not himself. He admitted to something being wrong. Then he took that punch: the Laxus-equivalent of an apology. Things weren't alright.

Not that Freed was totally complaining. Hitting him felt good—Laxus fucking deserved it. Freed didn't want a fight. He just wanted a little dignity back.

He wanted Laxus to stop being scared of him and his sexuality.

While Freed had selfish reasons for wanting Laxus to get over his shit, it mattered even more because it was becoming  _clear as fucking day_  Laxus had a strong reaction to men. Growing clearer by the second. From the way Freed was actually getting confessions out of him to the fact Laxus was growing hard in the middle of an argument… Not that Freed was looking but, okay, he was looking.

Despite everything Laxus said, some part of him really did want to be here. That fact was getting harder for Freed to deny.

Ignoring all the sensible voices screaming his head, Freed drew his hand down from Laxus's face over his body, rubbing over the bulge in Laxus's trousers.

The Dragon Slayer hissed and stiffened. But he didn't retreat, hands reaching out before fisting at his sides.

The stiff curve of Laxus's cock was tangible through his pants. Stepping right in front of him, Freed splayed his hands on Laxus's chest, enjoying the rapid rise and fall.

_You lead me to make bad decisions._

"You don't  _have_  to always reject this," Freed said, his voice thickening as he reached down again and felt Laxus throb in his hand.

"Does it—nng—look like I'm rejecting you?" Laxus growled, wincing.

Freed wanted to cry,  _yes_. Instead he bit his lip.

Laxus slid his hands around Freed's waist and his temple clunked roughly against Freed's. Watching Laxus's strained face, Freed ached with grief and desire. Laxus's hands trailed up his sides with something far worse than sensuality: affection.

"I don't do hate sex," Freed whispered.

"Then let's not do that," Laxus murmured. "Let's—oh, fffuck!"

Freed undid Laxus's trousers and closed his fingers around hot flesh. Laxus leaned against him, a whimper escaping as he kissed across Freed's face. Eyes fluttering shut, Freed marveled at how careful those lips could be, unseeing yet so gentle. How Laxus could kiss every centimeter of him like he was more precious than gold.

Freed couldn't help continuing.  _Laxus wanted Freed touching him._  It was a thing he would hardly let himself dream about, too wonderful and impossible to contemplate. But it was truth here. He couldn't walk away from that.

"Dammit, I promised we wouldn't do this again," Freed panted, still jerking at his beloved's cock.

"Because I asked that it be that way." Laxus bit his earlobe and Freed's brain went fuzzy."What if…I asked if we can do it again?"

Freed sucked a breath. "Are you going to keep insulting me?"

He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. Laxus kissed down his neck, thick arms drawing Freed closer.

"No," the Dragon Slayer said. "I won't."

Pushing Freed's shirt aside, Laxus sucked at the divot of his collarbone. Freed could feel a hicky being raised there, Laxus's teeth rubbing across the skin in tantalizing nips. Freed fumbled at his buttons, giving Laxus more real estate. The appreciative rumble in Laxus's throat made him melt.

When Laxus dragged him earthward, Freed didn't resist, knees hitting the dirt. Laxus's hands and lips made Freed feel extraordinary, like Laxus was starving and only Freed would satisfy.

Burning inside, Freed caressed Laxus's chin; combed through his hair; wrapped a hand around his neck. Laxus's kisses were long, exploring. Freed shoved Laxus's jacket off and pushed him down onto it. As Laxus removed Freed's belt, Freed ground against him. Laxus groaned.

"Gods, why is this so addictive?" Laxus muttered.

_That's what happens when you repress yourself, love._

Teeth grit together, Laxus looked like he was still resisting pleasure. Straddling him, Freed could see the conflict and fear on his face. It filled him with purpose: to delight Laxus so much he finally let go.

This time backed by the full confession that some part of Laxus liked this.

Some part of him might be a tiny bit capable of reciprocating Freed's feelings.

He pressed a kiss to Laxus's open mouth, diving into him and exchanging heated breath. Tonguing at him, Laxus growled. Suddenly Laxus ducked and sank his teeth into Freed's neck in a possessive grip that pierced the skin.

"Shit, yes," Freed whimpered.

Freed sped up his frotting. Laxus owned him. Each time Freed slid his body across Laxus's, Laxus thrust up a little, moaning. Stripping Freed of his shirt, Laxus gripped his back, digging in and guiding his movements.  _Participating._  If it could always be like this…

While Freed wanted to connect skin-on-skin, he couldn't stop long enough for them to undress. It felt too good: their movements were getting harsher every minute, lips locked on each other. Everything Freed felt was Laxus. Laxus everywhere.

"Shit, I'm close," Freed admitted.

A smile tipped across Laxus's lips. He thrust up, making Freed shout as their cocks rubbed over each other.

"Fuck! Gods, I-I can't…Laxus, how do you—what do you want?"

Laxus frowned. Pulling Freed close, he whispered, "Why does it have to be what I want? Hell," he laughed, unbuttoning Freed's trousers, "why does it only have to be once? If you're this turned on, I bet I can make you come again."

Laxus pushed down to the top of Freed's pants, liberated his cock, and began stroking him. Freed cried out. Holy gods.

The movements were fast, fingers tight as they rutted over the head thrust after thrust. Hovering over Laxus as he was, Freed couldn't help moving in time with him, fucking shamelessly into Laxus's hand.

"Fuck, Laxus," Freed groaned.

Laxus made a rumbling sound in his throat, leaning up to suck on his chest. When his head thudded back down a moment later, his panting was ragged.

When Freed opened his eyes, Laxus was smiling. Enjoying touching Freed, enjoying jerking him off. His free hand, which had been at Freed's hip helping support him, slid up play on Freed's chest. Searching, he rubbed his fingers over Freed's nipple and grinned at the gasps Freed couldn't hide.

Seeing Laxus happy like this filled an emptiness in Freed. Joy was excruciating, highlighting what he always tried to ignore:

Freed loved Laxus, effortlessly and constantly like a river leading to the sea.

Laxus leaned up to mouth roughly at whatever part of Freed's skin he could reach. His grip was tight and every touch made Freed feel alive. Gods, Laxus grinned and caressed him and Freed was undone.

"Shit, Laxus…" Freed hissed, unable to hold his name back.

Laxus bit him.

Exultation wrenched Freed's gut and brought a cry from his throat.

"La—Laxusss!"

Shuddering, Freed coated Laxus's stomach, thrusting into Laxus's hand as he rode out the pleasure. Laxus carried him through the haze, stable and solid.

Freed was boneless afterward, arms shaking as he barely held himself up. Grabbing his shirt, he wiped Laxus off and lay on top of him. Freed hadn't indulged in this type of closeness last time, but Laxus didn't protest; the fact that Laxus was still hard as a rock probably helped.

"Did you enjoy that?" Laxus asked.

"Holy shit. You're fantastic."

Freed touched his cheek. The gesture made Laxus startle, twisting away. Freed's hand followed after him automatically and Laxus stopped trying to resist, but doubt lingered in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Freed asked, still stroking his face.

"I don't even know you, and you're being…weirdly kind."

"You don't like me taking care of you?" Freed chuckled.

When Laxus looked away, Freed frowned in confusion.

"Why are you uncomfortable?"

"It's just…not where my brain goes," Laxus mumbled.

"Is this because you love someone else?"

Grunting, Laxus shut his eyes, face twisting at whatever things he saw inside his closed lids. Was this scorn at having feelings for someone, at fucking a stranger when he loved another, or…surely he wasn't still disgusted by two men together?

Freed wanted so badly to seduce him. To draw him into an embrace he could trust. Embrace him as a man without Laxus being disgusted by it.

Being anonymous, Freed could flirt without having to worry about messing up their working relationship. He would be like Cyrano de Bergerac, using a face that wasn't his to express all the things he wanted to say.

Of course, Cyrano had died alone.

Not was that fair to Laxus. Reeling him in while Freed knew his lover and Laxus didn't—Laxus should have the right to tailor his affection to the person he was with…and choose that person in the first place. And their gender.

Freed hated the rules sometimes.

Biting his lip, he asked, "Who do you think I am?"

**Chapter 7: Who Betrayed**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much. Angst. Ready for it to get 10x worse? xD


	7. Who Betrayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

"Who do you think I am?" Freed asked.

They were still wrapped up in each other, half naked.

"I don't know." Laxus frowned. "I don't know anyone at Fairy Tail who uses territory magic like this."

It was a good guess, but Freed stifled a laugh. _Honestly, Laxus. How well do we know each other?_

"You probably don't know me," Freed lied.

"I know everyone at Fairy Tail. I make a point of knowing."

Freed blinked in surprise. That was something he wasn't aware of.

Still frowning, Laxus probed Freed's face with his hands and Freed's breath caught in his throat.

"Who would you like me to be, Laxus?" he asked softly.

Laxus tilted his head.

"You don't have to see me," Freed explained, "so I can be whomever you want. Call me whatever name you like. Pretend I'm that person you're trying to get over—anyone. Anything you want."

Laxus's fingers found his lips, feeling over Freed's gentle smile.

The proposition was genuine: he wanted Laxus to enjoy this to the fullest. Freed would be whatever Laxus wanted if it got them both what they wanted; screw whatever harm it did to his psyche.

"I don't know…" Laxus swallowed.

Bending down, Freed kissed him, simple and slow. Laxus pushed his fingers into Freed's hair to pull him closer, slipping between Freed's lips. They sighed contently at the same time, making warmth glow in Freed's chest.

"This time," Freed whispered, "you're going to fuck  _me_."

* * *

The man's words got caught in Laxus's brain, unable to fully process. Especially since his partner was sucking his way down Laxus's neck.

When his lips closed around one of Laxus's nipples, the Dragon Slayer bit his hand to keep from releasing all the sounds in his throat. Every nip and lick shot straight to his cock, which was already leaking from hearing the man's moans as he came. As a palm cupped his balls through the fabric, Laxus let out a moan of his own.

He couldn't believe he'd denied himself this for so long.  _Had to. Have to. Not right._

But it didn't feel wrong.

When Laxus explored his partner's bare chest, the hard muscles made delightful pictures in Laxus's mind. Pornographic thoughts were his bane before, but hell if he cared now. Mental images couldn't make this crime any worse.

And the man was so hot: Laxus didn't need working vision to know that.

Shifting his weight, the man shucked his pants with so much speed Laxus teased, "You could compete against Fullbuster."

"How do you know I'm not him?"

Scowling, Laxus tightened his grip on the man's hips.

"Unlike us, he's got someone who loves him, in case you hadn't noticed."

After a pause, his partner replied, "Touché."

Laxus was feeling all over the man's naked body now. Muscular thighs tensed at the touch—now that was interesting. Sliding up, Laxus dug his nails into the man's ass and felt a shaky breath stutter over his face.

Laxus grinned.

"Help hold me up," his partner requested. "Easier to prep myself like this."

"Fuck," Laxus grunted, his cock aching at that. He was painfully hard. "It's things like that which make me wish I could see you."

"I kinda wish you could too," the man said, smile audible.

It was incredibly arousing to hear those panted breaths and know the man was fingering himself open, preparing for  _Laxus's cock_ …

"Shit. I got a condom," Laxus said, "but no lube."

"If you do this often enough," the man explained breathlessly, "things stretch out and you get more used to intrusion. I can make due with spit."

Laxus felt dubious about that. The idea made him wince. And he knew he couldn't enjoy this if his partner was in pain.

With a start, he realized he was having sex the way he always wanted: not just consenting and needing, but with a desire for something beyond release. That thing in his chest which cared about what his anonymous partner was thinking and feeling—that's what made this so good. So beautiful.

He decided to trust the experienced body above him.

After a bit of fumbling on Laxus's part (condoms were difficult in the dark, dammit) and a merry laugh from his partner, the man stroked Laxus's cock, breath loud. The man's mouth descended on him and Laxus thrust in automatically—and his partner moaned.

Too quickly, the man's mouth went away.

Then his partner sank down onto him and Laxus slid into the most wonderful feeling in the world.

The man went all the way down in one slow move, both of them gasping with one breath. Laxus had never felt anything squeezing his cock as snug as this. The pressure rocketed up his spine like a ball of fire, leaving devastation behind. Shuddering, Laxus closed his eyes as he focused on not moving, every touch possessing him.

His partner's hands were hard on Laxus's shoulders and with a half-chuckle he rose up, sliding back down and making Laxus gasp. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. He'd never done anything like this: a whole new world was opening to him.

Everything drew taut around his cock, straining his self-control as heat flashed over him. The other man had tensed on purpose, squeezing him tighter, and Laxus would've been embarrassed at what a wreck the feelings made him if the other man weren't groaning too, nails scrabbling desperately at his skin.

When harsh panting brushed his cheek, Laxus wished he could see the face above him. He'd never been so aroused and wanting, never felt so vulnerable in his need before. His partner thrust onto him again and Laxus saw stars. This was more pleasurable than he thought sex was possible to be—and he'd fucked with women before.

It was everything he didn't know he wanted. He never wanted it to end.

* * *

Freed was full, so full. He had Laxus inside him, Laxus delighting in Freed's body. Even as the overpowering thoughts careened through his head, he felt Laxus's nails dig into his ass and his breath seized in his throat.

Fucking beautiful.

Laxus ran those large hands over Freed's body. His rough palms made pleasure spike from Freed's nipples, finding secret places that had Freed moaning even while Laxus arched his back and struggled not to thrust into him. Freed leaned heavily over Laxus as he pushed onto that cock over and over.

Freed had to cough before words could form.

"You can fuck me," he said throatily. "Please fuck me…"

Hands sliding to Freed's hips, Laxus drove into him with slow, sure pressure and Freed crowed.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

While Laxus pulled Freed deeper onto his cock again and again, one hand found Freed's face and pulled him into a close, untidy kiss. Freed licked into his mouth, found Laxus's sharp Dragon Slayer teeth, and ran his tongue across them. He was in fucking heaven. Laxus groaned into his mouth.

Bringing Laxus joy like this—it was overwhelming. Freed couldn't help a tear slipping down his cheek. Gods, it was everything he dreamed of.

* * *

Laxus heard the change in his partner's breath. When he reached up and caressed the man's cheek, it was damp.

"What's wrong?" he gasped, grinding to a halt. Shit, he knew it was a bad idea to do this without lube. Laxus had hurt him—the only man who had ever made love to him. Fuck.

"It's just so good," his partner breathed. "Shit. Laxus, fuck, I'm so close  _again_ …"

Laxus groped and got his fingers around his partner's cock, sliding over the smooth skin, wet from precum. He loved touching cock. He'd touched himself, but that wasn't the same; this was hot and long and alive in his hand, throbbing with his partner's excitement. Cocks were awesome.

_Fuck, I'm not remotely straight._

Laxus had hardly stroked him when his partner came. There were no words on the man's tongue, just one thing cried out over and over, pulsing with desire: Laxus's name.

It had never sounded so good.

Cum covered Laxus's hand and stomach, warm and sticky. He didn't care, but his partner was apparently a cleanliness snob, because he snagged an item of clothing and wiped them both off. Even in that little detail, Laxus couldn't help thinking of Freed. Freed was always picking up after members of the team, chiding them about neatness.

Maybe he  _could_  pretend this was Freed. Just for a few minutes—not enough to take him out of the experience. Laxus wanted to be here, present, in every moment of this. He wanted to enjoy his partner, whoever this ripped territory mage was. Didn't want to be unfair to this man who was so damn good at this.

But Laxus would never get to have Freed. So maybe just this once he could pretend.

The man was about Freed's size too, making it easy to imagine this body matched the one Laxus had seen more than almost any other. To imagine that the hair he stroked was green, with flyaway strands that zigzagged like lightning. To imagine that above him hovered that thin, intelligent face he loved.

Laxus had pushed—no,  _thrown_  Freed away from himself. He didn't deserve Freed. Maybe his problem was thinking he ever could.

He was getting so close now, every thrust screaming. Every time the two of them connected, ass hitting thighs, Laxus groaned the unintelligible sounds of pleasure, hands clawing, lips finding skin and ravaging it. His partner tasted like salt and ecstasy and his hands pawed at Laxus's chest as Laxus thrust into him.

When Laxus pictured his favorite mage, eyes bright with that smile he got whenever he solved a puzzle or laughed at something Laxus said, Laxus's gut twisted and the world dissolved.

As joy crashed over him like a wave, he kissed fantasy-Freed one last time.

It was time to let go.

"F-Freed…" he whispered, shattering into a thousand pieces.

His partner shivered around him, tensing and squeezing Laxus's cock as the Dragon Slayer thrust up a final time. Laxus emptied himself, letting every broken piece of himself find a home there. He would walk away and leave it all behind—Freed, and love, and the imaginary end to loneliness, and everything he'd dreamed of wanting.

As the two men wound down together, Laxus felt every movement like a jolt up his spine, happiness trying to pass over full nerves. When the lightning mage ran his palms over his partner's thighs, the man pulled off him slowly and sat up.

"What did you call me?" the man asked.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Laxus put a hand over his eyes. "It just slipped out."

"Slipped out?"

Tension laced the man's voice. But he'd said Laxus could call him anything, so the irritation left Laxus bewildered.

It didn't matter. Either way, Laxus had fucked up.

"I'm done with that now. Forget I said it."

"You're done with him?" His partner stiffened. "Why?"

Laxus raised his eyebrows, distinctly uncomfortable.  _Why does it matter?_

"Just answer the question, Laxus."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Is he who you're trying to get over?" his partner asked, voice quivering.

Fucking goddamn hell. This was how the rumor mill would get started.  _Laxus is a faggot._  Then someone would tell Freed—

_No!_  Laxus's heart couldn't take the pounding strain of following that to its conclusion.

"Of course not. You know I'm not into men," Laxus spat smoothly. Lies were better than rumors. Lies kept him safe. "It was just a fantasy. Nothing to it."

"Nothing." The man inhaled, silent for a long moment. Laxus wondered what was going through the man's head. "Isn't he your teammate?"

Gods.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" the Dragon Slayer begged, sitting up beside his partner and pressing his palms to his eyes. "Gods, I will do anything. This can't…I can't have anyone know. Anyone."

The other man cracked a brittle laugh.

"Laxus pleading: now that's something I won't forget easily."

"Don't think you know me just from some name I muttered during sex," Laxus growled, fear trilling up his spine. He wasn't brave. He was weak and small and desperate. "I told you, it just slipped out. Just like anyone else, sometimes I have…thoughts like that, but they don't mean anything. People can get off thinking about doing something, an act, but who they do it with doesn't really matter. It's like that."

"So you're still insisting you're not attracted to men? Or just not to him?" his partner asked.

"I'm not attracted to men, or Freed, or any of it! I met with you to have a good time, and I did, gender aside."

"Still, if you're willing to at least imagine fucking him, why didn't you go to Freed with your…desires?"

"Shut up about it already," Laxus growled. "Don't ask about things you clearly don't understand."

"Don't understand?" His partner snorted. "We've fucked twice; don't tell me this doesn't concern me. Why the hell are you here, Laxus? If you're turned on thinking about Freed, you could've asked  _him_  for a fuck. He'd like that, and he's not ashamed like you are about letting other men fuck him."

"I don't want to do this with Fr—!" He cut off as the man's words processed. "How the hell would  _you_  know what he likes?"

Silence, but Laxus already knew.

"You slept together," Laxus hissed.

As more silence confirmed it, his nose wrinkled in revulsion.  _This man fucked Freed._ And then Laxus fucked the same person, like the dog he was. It was fucking by proxy, Laxus dirtying Freed with all the weak and impure bits of Laxus's soul.

A wave of heat burned through Laxus's body and shattered his control. His fingernails dug into the hard ground, loathing curling into a snarl.

He really was the lowest piece of shit.

"What's  _that_  look for?" the man jeered. "Are you really that disgusted at the idea of your teammate laid out getting fucked with someone's cock up his ass?"

"I don't want to hear it!" Laxus burst out. "Shut the fuck up."

"Or maybe he's the one probing other guys' prostates and drinking down their cum. It grosses you out, doesn't it?"

"Shut up!" Laxus wanted to hit him.

But the vicious words came faster.

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? You've got some homophobic self-hatred that makes you fantasize about men, but the idea of any kind of relationship sickens you. You're such a fucking hypocrite. Are you even interested in men as living, breathing, goddamn human beings, or do you simply objectify us for your pleasure?"

"I told you not put those questions to me." Laxus's muscles strained. He needed anger. Anger would get him through this.

"What are we then, some sordid kink of yours? You're turned on sleeping with the same  _fags_  who repulse you? You don't even consider love possible in a  _homosexual_  relationship, do you? Just some dirty fantasy you choose to fulfill at others' expense."

Love possible? Laxus could've laughed. Love was  _never_  possible for him. Filthy dreams were all he had.

This man had no clue. No fucking clue at all.

"You agreed to be here." Laxus pierced the blackness with his furious glare. "You initiated this. Don't whine that you feel used."

There was a flurry of movement as the man rose; cloth rustled.

"I refuse to partake in your mockery of my kind, Laxus. I'm here to make love, not satisfy your twisted curiosity."

The man took a sharp breath.

"You disgust me."

There they were, flung back at him: the final words Laxus had told Freed before storming out on him all those years ago. He'd regretted those words so much. Horror had struck him as soon as he'd run out of the house.

_Disgusting._

It was everything he felt about himself, and everything his father would say, and everything Freed would say, and everything he knew he deserved.

"We're done here," the man said, voice moving away from him. The blackness seemed to lighten and the man's voice morphed, magic thinning. "Don't pester Mira looking for me again."

Laxus knew he had to stop this. Had to set things right before it was too late. Otherwise he'd never get a chance to apologize, and it was about fucking time he did so to  _someone_.

"Sit your bitter ass down and let me explain," Laxus ground out, rolling up into a crouch. His vision turned into a landscape of amorphous blobs. "You owe me that much."

"Whether I owe you or not is debatable, I can't stand being around you any longer," the man said, voice unraveling from its spell, educated disdain breaking before a building pressure of emotion. "You can call me weak for walking away, but you already think that of me, so what does it matter?"

"When have I ever said  _that_?"

Laxus caught blurry movement to his right.

"Goodbye, Laxus," the man replied.

The magic on his voice was gone now. That voice haunted him. A voice he knew better than any other.

Terror ripped through Laxus's chest as the man stomped away.

"Freed?" he asked, barely breathing. "Shitfuck. It's you?"

A stuttered footstep was all the response he got.

Scrambling forward, Laxus tried to see where the man had gone, tried to follow after him. The magic was dissolving around him, and as he reached the edge of the clearing, his eyesight returned enough to catch sight—

He stumbled over a root and fell onto hands and knees, cursing. But he knew what he'd seen.

Vivid green hair disappearing into the trees.

_Freed._

_Oh gods. Freed._

**Chapter 8: Two Men**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laxus is so fucked.


	8. Two Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks of Laxus and Freed in their childhood...with Ivan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning:** for manipulative, emotionally-abusive father.

Ten-year-old Laxus stared silently across Fairy Tail. At a table, two men laughed, one grinning at the other in the focused way people had for someone special. Which made sense, because, as Laxus had learned last week, they were together.

Their laughter was boisterous and uncontained.

If Laxus's stare had any power, the two would've been struck by lightning. But as people were fond of telling him, he was too weak to so much as protect himself from the weather. So he just watched, eyes catching every move and smile passing between them.

"There you are." Ivan's voice took hold of his muscles, freezing Laxus in place. "Always waiting around like the world will serve itself up to you."

Pulling his gaze from the two partners, Laxus looked up tentatively at his father. Ivan was an hour later than he said he'd be, but Laxus wouldn't dream of telling him so.

"Otousama."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Is that any way to greet your father?"

Eyes wide, Laxus jumped off his stool and bowed. Some days Ivan wanted respect; some days he wanted affection. Laxus hadn't yet found a way to tell which was which.

"You're the best-behaved child in this place," Ivan said, and when Laxus looked up, he found broad arms waiting for him. Eagerness flooded him as he rushed into the familiar embrace. He caught the rumbled words, "Better behaved than most of the adults, too."

Not wanting to get swept into another lecture on the decrepitude of the guild, he put his hands behind his back and stood up straight. As perfect as he could muster.

"Will you take me on another mission?"

While Ivan eyed him, rubbing his chin, Laxus tried not to twitch.

Nobody else brought him on jobs, saying they didn't want to spend all their time shielding a child. They were all about brute strength, and even though Laxus kept learning more spells, his small magic power was all people could see.

On occasion Ivan would take time away from his important work and give Laxus a day of training. He was the only one who ever believed Laxus could be more, the only one who had faith he wouldn't be a runt forever. Ivan pushed him hard, but when Laxus could meet his standards, there was high praise.

A loud laugh pulled his eyes back to the two men for a second. When one leaned in and kissed the other, Laxus's gaze snapped to Ivan. Unknown emotion snagged his gut.

Ivan glanced over—and growled.

"Faggots."

Laxus felt so small. He shouldn't have looked. Shouldn't have looked at the fags.

"Stay here," Ivan ordered.

He crossed toward the job board, stopping at the men's table.

"I heard you flubbed a job last week," Ivan said. "Too distracted?"

One tensed. "A rough fight, but we handled it."

"If you want to build your strength, I'd be happy to train with you," Ivan sneered, and Laxus's heart fell. He knew it was selfish; Ivan had so many better things to do than focus on him.

"I'll pass," the man said. "I don't like your training methods."

"Afraid of a little pain?" Ivan snorted. "My son has more courage than you."

"Tch," the man replied. His dark-haired partner looked away, apparently passive.

Without warning, the bowl in front of the man transformed into shikigami dolls. They whipped past his arm and sliced a small cut.

"Shit!" The man jerked back as Ivan laughed. "What the hell?"

"Soft," Ivan spat, leaning in. "Too soft."

Before the man could rise, his partner grabbed his hand, still not looking at Ivan, but his jaw was firm. With a final glare, the first turned and put Ivan behind him.

Revulsion twisted Ivan's face as he took in their joined hands. Turning away, Ivan twiddled his fingers, the shikigami following after him as he walked to the job board,but one of the dolls zoomed over their hands. The man's fingers started bleeding and he cursed.

Ivan was at the board now, and Laxus wavered in indecision: he wanted to run over and watch Ivan pick, remind him Laxus was here, free, and could tag along…please… On the other hand, Ivan had told him to stay, and orders were orders.

"Hello, Laxus."

Laxus whirled around, met brilliant green eyes, and smiled.

"Hey, Freed."

The other boy had his green hair tied up today, flyaway strands zigzagging above his head. As he smiled, Freed ran a hand over them in a vain attempt to smooth them down, a nervous habit Laxus had observed.

"Did you master that spell from yesterday?" Freed asked.

"Yeah." Laxus puffed his chest. "Stayed up last night working on it."

"Can I see?" Freed asked eagerly.

Glancing around, Laxus made sure Ivan's back was turned.

"Hand me your pen."

Freed turned the instrument over without question. At first glance it seemed just a tool for the boy to write his runes, albeit of weighty metal. But Freed had shown Laxus the secret: the other end turned into a deadly spike that could pierce a person's heart.

Avoiding contact with Freed's warm fingers out of habit, Laxus took the pen reverently. It was Freed's most treasured possession.

As he held it up, electricity danced along it. Laxus chanced a look at the other boy's face, enjoying Freed's intense focus.

"Watch."

At Laxus's mental direction, the lightning sparked off the pen and hit an empty cup on a nearby table. Another trail flew to hit an already-existent burn on a pillar.

Freed's joyful laugh was infectious, and with a little focus, Laxus let fly electric current at Freed's chest. Freed's eyes widened for a brief second, but the lightning hit the metal button of his jacket. Laxus directed the charge up, jumping button to button before it leapt back to the pen. Rubbing his chest, Freed grinned, panting a little.

"Thought I was gonna hit you, didn't you?" Laxus teased.

"You wouldn't hurt me," Freed said. "You're a better mage than that."

There was a dusting of pink on Freed's cheeks. Laxus glowed, opening his mouth to respond.

"Laxus," Ivan said.

Laxus jumped and dropped the pen. When he bent to pick it up, Freed got there first. Laxus shot up straight and made sure there was visible distance between them. Not like the fags.

Ivan's eyes passed over the two of them, narrowing.

"I'm taking you on a job, Laxus. My son won't be a laughingstock. Come."

"Yes, sir."

As Ivan headed for the doors, Laxus snatched his coat from a nearby chair and caught Freed's eye. The other boy's expression was somewhere between sympathy and sadness Laxus didn't understand.

"Later," Laxus whispered.

Freed nodded.

Hearing an impatient shout, Laxus hurried after his father.

* * *

"Do you know what Gildarts said about you?"

Ivan led the way along a wooded trail, Laxus following.

"He said you don't belong in the guild," Ivan said. "He said you're an unfortunate excuse for a mage."

Laxus looked down. "I belong," he mumbled.

Ivan's shrug was indefinite.

"He has a  _bit_  of a point. You're not powerful. To those who care about such things, that makes you useless. And you have to admit, power is important on some missions."

Laxus's heart plummeted to the ground. Ivan was supposed to care. If Ivan didn't see his potential, nobody did.

"That's why I'm taking you with me," Ivan went on. "You need more experience. Unlike your grandfather, I'm not a quitter: I won't give up on you until you're more powerful than all of Fairy Tail. I won't be ashamed of my son. Right?"

"Right."

Ivan clapped his shoulder.

Pride hit the back of Laxus's throat. It felt not unlike the urge to vomit.

A hundred insults from guildmates, said out of his hearing but hurting no less, swam around his head; but for every one, there was a promise from his father to strengthen him if he worked hard. It was Laxus's sole goal to live up to those promises. Strong enough to hold his own. Strong enough to shut people up.

"So you and that green-haired runt have struck up a 'friendship'?"

Laxus swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"I told you what happens when you get close to people."

"Yes."

 _People hurt you._  But Freed was okay. He was thoughtful and fascinating. It was harmless: all they did was joke around. Laxus had fun around him. And he never got close enough to touch Freed.

"You're doing this because you think it'll turn out better for you. You think some people are good and if you're good to them back, you won't end up like your old man."

Ivan looked back at him and Laxus's eyes went to the line across Ivan's neck.  _Scarred._

"That's not why," he said, voice embarrassingly high.

"You think I don't know what my own son thinks? Don't lie to me," Ivan snarled. "I know what people in the guild say about me. They say I'm hard, that I don't care. I never thought my own flesh and blood would agree with them."

"I don't!"

"Does anyone else take you with them? Does anyone else in that damned guild care what happens to a child? I push you and challenge you to do better—because I believe you can be more. They're a bunch of assholes. You have to fight against the world, Laxus. That's what I'm teaching you to do." Ivan ran a weary hand over his face. "The world is hard. I'm making you someone who can survive."

Taking a risk, Laxus tugged on his father's arm. When Ivan stopped walking, Laxus flinched, but Ivan just stared down at him. Laxus could see the hurt in his father's eyes.

"I want to be like you," Laxus said.

Ivan's slow smile warmed his insides. Ivan was so rarely happy. That Laxus could make him smile…this was special. His lungs eased out of their death grip.

"I know," Ivan said. "That's why I bring you on my quests."

"And to train me," Laxus put in as they began walking again.

"And to train you."

Back on solid familial ground, Laxus inhaled.

"So what have you learned lately?" Ivan asked.

"I learned new ways to manipulate lightning through objects. And I'm learning illusions."

A second later, a bird dive-bombed Ivan's head.

"Hell!"

Ivan ducked away and Laxus grinned. He wanted to show this one off for a long time.

"How many can you do?" Ivan asked. To Laxus's intense pride, he sounded impressed.

"I can't do big ones," Laxus admitted, "but I'm working up to projections."

"Projection is useful magic. You can communicate without putting yourself in harm's way."

Laxus wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or a slight: the goal was to be strong enough danger wasn't an issue.

"Where did you learn all this?" Ivan asked.

"Freed gave me a book."

"Freed did."

Danger tapped Laxus on the shoulder again. It hadn't been a question, but an answer tripped out of him, hoping to halt the storm before it hit.

"He finds spells in the books he reads and passes them onto me. Not that I don't read books on my own," Laxus said, blushing at the implication he wasn't working hard. "Freed knows the guild's library like the back of his hand. It makes more time for studying."

"I see."

This time, Laxus heard the edge.

"Freed is a resource," Laxus said. It was a keyword Ivan used often.

"Really?"

"I've already mastered several dozen new spells."

"What do you do for him?" Ivan asked.

Laxus blinked at him.

"When he shows you magic, what do you do in return?" Ivan asked, impatient.

"Nothing."

No, wait—

"Maybe for now," Ivan growled. "He'll call in the debt. The longer you wait, the more he'll ask for. Believe me."

"I don't do  _nothing_ ," Laxus corrected quickly. "I don't  _teach_  him anything: I help him practice his spells. I-I thought you meant teaching him stuff. I don't do that. He can't work my magic. He's—not strong enough."

"Oh." Ivan leered. "I see now."

"Yeah."

Laxus knew he was betraying Freed, but this was survival. Sickness wormed in his stomach as a constant reminder of the stakes. Freed would do the same in his shoes. Laxus had to work alone.

"Don't let him try to call in a debt, Laxus. He's volunteering these books to you: you don't owe him. Make sure you know that."

"I do."

Eat or be eaten.

Although…things were different with Freed. Friends, according to Jijii, didn't think about debts and favors; you enjoyed spending time together, cared about each other, and that was enough. Freed was like that with Laxus—and when he let himself, Laxus was like that with Freed.

Jijii's way of doing things was more pleasant, but Ivan's way fit the cold reality of pain. Laxus wasn't sure yet which was right, though he kept that to himself. Mentioning his grandfather to his father, or vice versa, was not smart.

"Don't shame me on this job, Laxus," Ivan warned suddenly.

"I won't."

"I know you won't. You're willing to put up with anything if it means success."

Laxus nodded.

If he was strong enough to be successful, he could have whatever he wanted. The strong earned happiness. Until then, he didn't deserve a thing.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Otousama," Laxus panted, clutching his wrist. The blood wouldn't stop flowing.

"Stand up."

Laxus did so, nauseous as the world spun. All the little cuts on his arms and legs stung, but it was his wrist and hip which thudded insistently.

The ground was littered with the results of their training—the job earlier showed Ivan where Laxus was weakest. Like all of Ivan's training, it wasn't without its injuries.

But Laxus couldn't give up. Even though the ache in his limbs made him want to cry. He wasn't allowed.

"Do you want to be strong?" Ivan asked.

"Yes."

"Do you  _really_  want strength? You don't have to. You can stay weak forever. You won't amount to much, but maybe you'll like that. You can go off, leave your father, and have a nonmagical life."

Laxus tensed, gritting his teeth against the pain. "No!"

"Then you can't keep playing the victim, Laxus. Playing up your wounds won't get you pity, even from me. I don't want to see you being pathetic. The Dreyar name means power. That's the privilege you were born into. Live up to it."

"Yes, sir." Laxus inhaled deeply, as if the action could pull more ethernanos into his body.

"Defend."

Shikigami flew at him once more and Laxus barely dodged, zapping a few with a surge of electricity. The surge was small, just like his small body, his small fists, and his small magic power.

He distracted Ivan with an illusion of flies, but a second later, shikigami were on him again. Laxus braced for the impact, feeling them tear through his skin, unable to stop a cry.

"Nobody can protect you, Laxus," Ivan called as the shikigami circled around. "You have to do this. Out here, I'm the only witness to your failure. Learn to fight back."

As the dolls came back around, Laxus drew on what magic he had left and knew it wasn't enough. He burned through the first wave before being overwhelmed, slices across his arms, shins, stomach. Shikigami snuck past his guard and attacked his face.

He fell to the ground, unable to do anything more, trying to hide his groans. Waiting for it to end, he felt a tear slip out and was glad the cloud of shikigami blocked his father's view. He'd failed. Pathetic.

_I'm sorry, Otousama. I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

"Do you want me to let up?" Ivan called.

 _Yes._  Pain sprouted on the side of Laxus's neck, and when he slapped it away, shikigami punched his eye socket.

"You haven't earned a reprieve yet. Earn it, Laxus. Stand up."

 _Stand up._  He just had to bend his knees, push himself skyward. Then Ivan would stop.

He didn't falter until he was halfway up and didn't know where his head was anymore. The sky was down, the ground was sideways, and maybe he shouldn't be pushing himself, but all he had to do was stand up and everything would be fine.

Just stand up.

* * *

Laxus was confused. Everything was a jumble and he was leaning in his father's arms, which felt more real than anything. The sort of touch he was desperate for. And yet unreal, because Ivan Dreyar didn't do things like this.

Straining to focus, Laxus felt pain all over, then the wounds settled into individual stings. He started crying before he could stop himself, swallowing down the gasp of sound. Couldn't cry in front of his father. Real fighters didn't cry.  _Control yourself_.

"There," Ivan said, his voice gentle as Laxus felt pressure on his wrist. "That'll feel better."

When Laxus looked down, his father was bandaging the bloody limb.  _His father._ Bandaging him.

He relaxed, finally, amazed and exhausted, basking in the touch. The reprieve was golden, a perfect slice of time.

They were in the clearing, afternoon light making complicated leaf patterns on the ground. Laxus watched his father tend his injuries one at a time, careful not to press too hard, cleaning the cuts. The warmth in Laxus's chest was something he didn't feel often since his mother. Ivan was hard, so much work to do and so often busy that Laxus didn't see him except at the end of too-long days when Ivan just wanted silence, not a weak and pathetic son.

But times like these were idyllic, just the two of them, when Ivan's real face showed. The Ivan who loved him.

As his father finished checking his fingers for breaks, Ivan met Laxus's longing eyes with a smile. Laxus's heart burst.

"I'm sorry," Laxus whispered after a few minutes.

"It's alright." Ivan shifted, embrace falling away as he inspected Laxus's knee, though he smiled at Laxus again. "You tried your best."

As Ivan wrapped a bandage around Laxus's leg, Laxus held perfectly still for him. Eventually Ivan finished, patting Laxus's shin and sitting back. Comfortable silence stretched. Beautiful, exhilarating.

The pain receded the more alert Laxus became.  _Because I am strong._

Except he wasn't.

His best was never enough. Though Ivan's words had sounded like forgiveness, Laxus hadn't technically admitted it was his fault. He didn't want to bring it up in case there wasn't mercy and the peacefulness of this moment broke. But he had to own up. Not owning up always ended worse.

Laxus cleared his throat.

"I failed."

"What makes you think that?" Ivan asked, tone a mixture of surety and confusion. "You did a good job, Laxus. You're getting better."

"I passed out."

"That's okay."

Okay. He was okay. Laxus could've danced.

"But you told me to stand up," Laxus pushed. "I couldn't."

Ivan sighed.

"You always want to see yourself as a failure, Laxus. Not believing in yourself is why you don't get stronger. But I think you're doing a good job for someone with your skill and magic power. You're too hard on yourself, and it distracts you so you mess up—just focus on what you're doing."

He  _did_  focus. But like usual, his efforts were clearly not enough.

"I wish this were easier," he mumbled.

"It will be." Ivan's gaze searched the horizon, determined. "I will make you powerful. You're my son. You'll be a man above men. Then no one can speak down to you. I promise you, Laxus."

Laxus nodded, rubbing at his swollen eye. He wouldn't always be this bad.

* * *

"What happened to you?" Freed gasped.

Moving ached, so Laxus didn't turn, staring sideways at him as Freed slid onto the bench. The corner of the guild where Laxus slumped was shadowed, but not dark enough to hide him.

A hand moved toward his face, toward the part Freed couldn't see. Heart shooting into his throat, Laxus jerked away from his fingers and instead twisted around to face him.

He was so, so thankful Freed didn't look at him like he was weak. He just inspected the black eye with an understanding little frown.

"Here." Freed drew runes in the space between them.

"Don't—" Laxus began, startled and afraid, but warmth washed over him. "What was that?"

"I can't heal," Freed confessed, looking down. "But the spell should alleviate some of the pain."

"It didn't hurt that bad," Laxus mumbled.

The two words he wanted to say,  _thank you_ , were a world away, pride too battered. He hated that Freed could see his failure written all over him in his cuts and bruises.

"Pain is good for me."

"It is?" Freed asked.

"Yeah, makes you stronger."

"It makes you weaker until you're healed," Freed retorted. "And makes you more afraid of getting hurt again. Except not you, of course. You're not afraid of anything."

Laxus fingered the grooves in the wooden table. He  _was_  afraid.

"This pain is good for me because it's my fault," he whispered.

"How does that make a difference?" Freed asked.

"It'll remind me not to mess up."

Shaking his head, Freed dropped the topic and sighed. "So what happened?"

"Nothing."

"L-Laxus…" Freed looked at his hands, his beautiful green hair swinging over his face.

The tremor in his voice jolted Laxus out of himself. Freed never sounded like that.

"What's wrong?" Laxus asked, leaning in even though it sent pain hissing through his ribs. "Did someone do something to you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. But you always end up like this after you're with  _him_."

It was Laxus's turn to tremble.

People always wanted to blame Ivan for things that weren't his fault. It was why Ivan felt uncomfortable in the guild, victimized, scapegoated. Otherwise Laxus's father might actually enjoy being here; might spend more time with his son.

"So?" he barked.

"I just…wondered," Freed said in a tiny voice.

"He's the only person who takes me on jobs," Laxus said.

"But doesn't he protect you?"

"I can protect myself."

There wasn't anything wrong with where he'd obtained these wounds. But Freed would misunderstand, and so would Jijii. That's why Laxus never told his grandfather where he'd gotten the scratches—tried not to let him see if he could help it. He didn't want Ivan's reputation in the guild hurt further. His father loved him. His father bandaged him up even after he failed. Why did people refuse to see that side?

After a moment of silence, Freed said, "Want to see what I found the other day?"

Laxus nodded. Freed smiled, and Laxus's frustration melted away.

To Laxus's not-surprise, he whipped out a book and flipped to a dog-eared page.

"This is the basis for Master's Giant magic," he said excitedly. "It's a complicated spell set—comes from special ways of channeling your magic through your body. These spells aren't as powerful as Master's, but they still affect size."

Careful to keep space between them, Laxus leaned over the page. He was adept at learning new spells: if he could master this, he could look more imposing.

"What are you boys up to?" Gildarts leaned over the bench behind them.

"Nothing!" Laxus said, covering the book with his hands as he shot the man a glare. This kind of spell he wanted to himself.

"Is it hentai?" Gildarts asked, leering. "That's why you're always reading, right?"

Freed blushed scarlet while Laxus's glare intensified. Gildarts loved embarrassing Freed.

"Pervert." Laxus spat, drawing Gildarts's raised eyebrow. "Shove off."

"Why? Is it  _gay_  hentai?"

Ice slid through Laxus's bones.  _Fags._

"Fuck off!" he yelled, much louder than he needed to. Terrified Ivan would choose that moment to appear.

"Damn, you've got a dirty mouth for a kid."

"Not as dirty as you."

Gildarts laughed and ruffled the boys' hair, clonking their heads together lightly. Spluttering in rage, Laxus whirled to give him an electric shock, but Gildarts was already striding across the guildhall.

"I fucking hate him," Laxus snarled, not bothering to keep his voice down. Let Gildarts hear him. The man had said enough shit about Laxus. "Bastard."

"Is your head okay?" Freed asked, rubbing his temple. Some of his hair was out of place, and Laxus had the strong urge to fix it because Freed hated being disheveled. But he kept his hands in his lap.

"I'm fine. Are you? Gildarts is such an asshole."

"He's certainly a p-pervert."

The way Freed stumbled over the word was so awkward and lovable, Laxus might've smiled in other circumstances. But right now all he could feel was anger.

"He insulted me the other day."

"Gildarts did?" Freed asked in surprise.

"Said I was pathetic and shouldn't…be in the guild."

Freed gasped.

"He said that to your  _face?_ "

"No," Laxus admitted. "My father told me."

To his startlement, Freed was more dismayed.

"Why?"

"Because Gildarts is a dick," Laxus said. "It doesn't matter."

Shaking his head, Freed looked back down at the book between them, pained sadness in his eyes. Laxus clenched his fists: first he'd failed his training and how he'd upset Freed.  _Letdown_ : the word kept pounding through his brain.

He let down everyone who troubled themselves to show interest in him.

 _Better to be alone._  Ivan's old lesson pounded through his brain, and for once it didn't sound unreasonable. How did he even know Freed wanted him around? It seemed an arrogant assumption now.

"So, size-changing magic," Freed said.

Laxus coughed. "Yeah."

As they poured over the book, Laxus felt Freed's presence like a warm tingle despite the space between them. Gay hentai. Could the old perv have made things more awkward? Laxus's head still stung where it had hit Freed's and he was very aware of every part of his body. Strange feelings coiled in his stomach, and Laxus hated it because he enjoyed them. With all his will he shut them down, evicted the confusing tension he shouldn't feel and replaced it with hollowness.

This was why loneliness was better.

"I need some water," Freed said, rising. "Want some?"

When Laxus nodded and Freed scooted off, Laxus exhaled. This was why he liked Freed better than most people: Freed could sense when Laxus needed a few minutes of space.

**Chapter 9: The True Face of Loathing**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter returns to the present. 
> 
> Comments?


	9. The True Face of Loathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus is a walking thunderstorm, and nobody has seen Freed for several days...

Mira hadn't seen Freed at all yesterday. The day before had been his second rendezvous with his beloved, which meant this absence could be a good or bad sign.

When Laxus showed up on day two, early in the morning, in a storm of a bad mood and with the violent look of someone who hadn’t slept, her spirits dropped.

"Mira," the Dragon Slayer barked when he reached the bar. "Where's Freed?"

That was all it took for her skin to crack like brittle porcelain. Her tail sent a keg crashing to the ground.

"I will sever your fucking head from your body, Laxus," she growled.

"Why am I not surprised?" he sneered, stomping out and sending one of the guild doors crashing from its hinge.

Lisanna, the only other person in the hall, stared after him with wide eyes.

That afternoon, Bickslow came over and innocently handed Mira a letter.

She almost burned it on the spot. There was no way in hell she was passing it to Freed. Her best friend still hadn't talked to her—as far as she knew, nobody had  _seen_  Freed for two days. Something had gone very, very wrong.

She wanted blood.

But then she noticed the letter was written to her, not Freed. Shock and curiosity made her read.

* * *

_Mira, you can tell him however much or little of this you want. I grew up being told two guys together was disgusting and weak. It's what I was raised to. But despite that, I never thought of Freed that way. No matter what I said, I've always held the utmost respect for him._

_I never wanted to hurt him._

* * *

She carried the message around all day, and by evening she had made a decision.

Scratching out a note, she strode over to where the two oblivious Raijinshuu sat, bored without their captain.

"Evergreen, can you take this to Freed?"

"Why me?"

"You're one of the few of us who know where he lives."

Evergreen sighed, but Mira's narrowed eyes got her moving.

After the woman left, Mira went behind the bar and downed three shots. She'd need them to finish her shift. Fucking hell.

* * *

At the insistent banging, a weary Freed opened the door. Evergreen. Of course: who else knocked like that?

"What's up?" he asked, not bothering to hide his exhaustion.

"Holy shit, are you sick?" Ever asked, looking him up and down with a frown. When she barged into the house, he collapsed on the sofa beside her.

"I'm not sure," he said honestly. Between the rumpled clothes and dark circles under his eyes, he had to look awful. He hadn't left the house yesterday or today, which was selfish, but after all he'd done over the years, he figured he'd earned a day or two to nurse his wounds.

"Need anything?" Ever asked.

"Not right now, thank you." He gave her a wan smile.

"Gods, your hair." Shaking her head, she curled up next to him and touched his temples. "I don't think I've ever seen you without the lightning bolts. You even keep them up on missions."

"The zigzags happen naturally."

"Really?" She blinked in surprise. "What happened this time?"

"I straightened them," he grunted, looking away. "Got tired of them."

He hadn't washed his hair since meeting with…so they hadn't sprung back.

"Freed." Her voice hardened. "Mira came over all serious and gave me this note for you, and you look like you fought a hellhound all night, bites and all. Seriously, what happened?"

Freed leaned back, trying to get as far away from the accusation as possible.

"It's honestly nothing."

Ever whacked his arm. "You're incorrigible."

"What does Elfman say when you use vocabulary like that?"

"We are not talking about me!" she said, shrill. "Besides, he's smarter than you give him credit for. Just because people don't have your IQ," she smacked his head, "doesn't mean they're dumb apes. For gods' sakes."

"Ow. Why do you keep hitting me?"

"Because you're an ass."

Freed smiled. This was Ever taking care of him.

She glanced at his bookcases and asked, "Wasn't that shelf empty last time I was here?"

"Ah, yes. I got something new."

"Several dozen somethings."

"Duh," he chuckled. "You may enjoy some of them."

Ever put her feet on his lap (Bickslow tried tickling her the first time she did it and got a broken nose, so none of them resisted anymore) and things seemed almost normal for a while. As normal as it was to discuss philosophy while Freed wished for someone he could never have.

Disgustingly normal.

He knew he was moping, despite his efforts to stuff things down. Between their literary rants, he felt his face sag, the familiar sense of falling in his stomach: falling, falling for eternity…

After an hour, Ever stood up. "The time has come. You're no longer my problem."

"I'm a problem now?" Freed chuckled.

"You're a friend. Isn't that the same thing?" she deadpanned. "But I have a date tonight."

"When will you two make it official already?"

"Not that kind. A friend-date."

"So I can't be your friend when you're spending time with other friends?"

Ever stuck out her tongue. "Your brain is going to get you in trouble one day."

Freed's expression went stiff.  _It already does._

Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she murmured more seriously, "Fix your hair, Freed. You'll feel better if you take care of yourself. And make sure that wound on your neck doesn't fester. It looks deep."

He sighed. "Thanks, Ever."

After she left, Freed touched his neck. The raised bruise throbbed under his fingers, startling him with the pain. He hadn't actually looked in a mirror over the past two days, maybe precisely because of this: the fear of seeing Laxus carved into his skin.

Touching the bite made him feel nauseated and damaged. Luckily he was used to both.

A stupid, naive, unwanted boy.

Someone Laxus used. Someone Laxus fucked because he needed to get off. Someone whose identity Laxus hated, tried to fuck over—Freed was the object for Laxus's homophobic scorn. Laxus wanted…what? Power over him? To shove his face in the mud? To use Freed as a scapegoat for his unmanaged hatred and make himself feel better?

Freed wasn't innocent in this, either. Because he had loved a bastard even after that bastard hurt him. Put himself in the way of pain again, just to get a taste of hope.

He was pitiful, disgusting, and that part was his fault.

A sudden urge to vomit hit him—canceled out by his throat tightening with tears. Pressing his fingers to his eyes, he held his breath until nothing threatened to leak out of him: no noise, no sorrow. No lunch.

Breakfast. Whatever he ate last. He couldn't remember.

He felt so empty.

Collapsing into the sofa, Freed went to read, but his latest book was—of course—on the other side of the room. He opened Mira's note instead, praying for a distraction.

* * *

_Dearest,_

_Since I haven't seen you, I assume L. is a bitch and deserves to be shunned. I almost skinned him on your behalf when he came in, but decided you would probably like to take revenge yourself._

_For what it's worth, I discovered he was raised rather homophobic. I guess that shouldn't surprise me after seeing Ivan Dreyar at the Games. But who even believes such b.s. anymore? Talk about mediaeval. I don't know how Laxus could believe all that, but there's a lot about that family I'll never understand. Do with the information what you will._

_I'll be here whenever you come in. If you'd like me to bloody him for you, say the word._

_Don't forget your friends._

* * *

There were sloppy hearts scrawled across the bottom.

Freed leaned his face into his hands. His brain hurt, like someone was pressing their thumbs into it. He ached in every muscle, as if a demon really had trampled him. Was that a normal symptom of distress?

Miserable. Hopeless.

Except he wasn't truly hopeless. He knew the world would keep turning tomorrow and the next day: he'd continue doing jobs and paying his rent and sitting around stupid happy people at the guild, because that's how the world worked. Sure, this might be an issue of love, that vital food one's heart needed to survive; but no matter how tragic, the human heart moved on. It wasn't romantic, but Freed knew: one day he wouldn't feel this way anymore.

Once upon a time the thought of not loving Laxus had been painful, but now it was a relief. He wouldn't always be full of impotent rage. Impossible as it seemed, one day he would stop caring.

All this suffering would be a memory.

One day.

If there were a way to expedite the getting-over process, Freed would've done it years ago.  _The first time he destroyed me._  He wondered if diving into work could numb him enough to keep going. Wasn't that what he did the first time? Take care of the team; take care of life; get jobs done. Eventually Laxus's hateful speech faded to a background hum.

Of course, that time it had just been heartbreak. He knew—or thought he knew—Laxus still considered him reliable, a friend. This time, the rejection was entire. His best friend thought of him as nothing more than a dirty sexual object.

Leaning back, Freed closed his eyes and wondered if sleep would come at all tonight. It hadn't last night. The night before it had visited him only for a few broken, haunted hours: his ass too sore and body aching in exhaustion, his mind spinning through terrible thoughts whether awake or asleep.

Freed's stomach growled loudly, but he couldn't bring himself to eat.

There was one word for what he felt:

Empty.

**Chapter 10: Dogeza**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this isn't even the worst of it yet...
> 
> Everyone needs hugs.


	10. Dogeza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed yells at Laxus. For the first time ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made me cry…multiple times. Sorry not sorry.

The next morning, it was Bickslow who came to find him. Freed almost suspected them of scheduling check-ins, except Bickslow was blissfully oblivious to Freed's state of mind.

Freed had dragged through the morning routines of hygiene today and looked far nicer than he felt. Ever had lied: it hadn't made him feel better.

Just angry.

Despite how grating cheerfulness felt, Freed invited Bickslow in and offered to add a bit more to the breakfast currently cooking. They were exchanging mundane opinions on edibles when Freed turned to the side and Bickslow smirked.

"Someone had fun."

"What?" Freed blinked.

Bickslow gestured to his neck, making Freed clap a hand over the forgotten bruise. Too late.

"The bite marks look like you were attacked by a wild beast." Bickslow's eyes widened. "Don't tell me you and—"

Freed slammed his palm down so loudly Bickslow fell out of his chair.

If he said that name aloud, Freed was going to murder someone. He wanted to weep.

One look at Freed's face and Bickslow started talking.

"So hey, um, if we're not going on a job, I could use your help today, because my babies have a new formation to try. You game?"

"What do you need?"

"For you to fight us," Bickslow chuckled, still nervous. "What else?"

"Sounds nice." Freed grinned in a way that made Bickslow shift.

At a knock, Freed ignored Bickslow's startled jerk and strode into the hall. He opened the door with a cool, "Yes?"

The orange gaze hit him like a cold wind.

_Laxus._

Freed flung the door shut, but Laxus caught it on his arm and pushed. Fighting against him, Freed considered his options: Laxus would win in a battle of brute strength, but if Freed drew his sword…

He might be able to get in a good strike. It was about time someone showed the bastard what true pain felt like.

"Please hear me out," Laxus said.

Freed shoved harder.

"I'll be quick," Laxus begged, still holding the door open. "Please."

Freed glared at him with every ounce of venom stored inside. The man didn't deserve a fucking thing.

Freed stopped trying to force the door, standing in the crack to block Bickslow from overhearing. He motioned rudely. "Well? Get the fuck on with it."

"You're going to make me do this out here, aren't you?" Laxus sighed.

"I don't see how I owe you  _listening,_  let alone access to my house," Freed spat.

Nodding, Laxus closed his eyes and inhaled.

He was still everything Freed had loved, from those broad shoulders and that steady body to that beautiful, scarred face. Freed wanted to rip him into unrecognizable pieces.

Laxus knelt and put his forehead on the ground and Freed's jaw fell open in shock.

"I'm sorry for everything I said," Laxus said into the dirt. "I'm sorry for treating you so poorly and putting you in an awful position. I'm so, so sorry I hurt you."

Muscles stiff, Freed stared at this pillar of strength bowing to him. The indomitable Laxus without his arrogance. Laxus humbling himself enough to apologize.

"Stand up." Freed seemed to be breathing through shards of ice.

When Laxus rose, Freed saw another thing he wasn't used to: Laxus scared and waiting.

Freed punched him in the eye.

Laxus stumbled backward. The force was much harder than when Freed had hit him in the forest—this time he wanted to wound and break. Laxus gripped his nose, blood slithering between his fingers, and stared at Freed.

Freed gave him a nasty grin as he stepped out onto the stoop, pulling the door shut.

Fury; fury tore his heart open; fury made him strong. Despair was easy to dish out to others when you'd experienced it yourself, and Freed had so much to spare.

"You think you can come here, bow out an apology, and things will magically move on?" Freed took a painful breath. "Did you really think I would forgive you?"

As he continued forward, Laxus backed warily toward the street.

"Did you think my forgiveness would be here for you to take advantage of forever? You're wrong,  _Dreyar,_ " Freed sneered. "I guess when you're an asshole who's only ever loved himself, you don't realize other people have limits. Love has limits. I won't let myself be abused."

"Freed." Laxus swallowed.

They said revenge never made things better, but it wasn't like Freed's life could get any worse. Hurting Laxus sounded like the best way to murder what remained of Freed's soul. Maybe then the pain would stop.

And if breaking Laxus made him feel even worse afterward? Freed didn't give a flying fuck about his heart anymore.

Another step brought him in range. Freed made as if to punch Laxus's nose again, and when the Dragon Slayer blocked, Freed brought his other fist up into Laxus's gut.

Laxus gasped and hunched over.

The Dragon Slayer's expression was desperate and human and scared.

Freed didn't want to see it—didn't want to care. He drew his sword.

"Shit, Freed! What the hell?" Bickslow shouted, running out of the house. He tried to get between them, but Freed pointed his sword at Bickslow before he could take three steps.

"Stay the fuck out of this!" Freed yelled.

Yelping, Bickslow ducked, but Freed didn't throw any runes at him. He focused on Laxus.

After a second's assessment, Bickslow sprinted away down the street, footsteps disappearing toward the guild.

"Freed," Laxus said quietly, raising his hands in surrender as blood spilled from his nose, "I know I deserve this—"

"Deserve  _this?_ " Freed shouted. His heart was pounding and he was nothing but rage. "This isn't close to what you deserve, you son of a bitch. You think offering an apology could be enough to make up for all the things you've done to me? All the ways you've  _humiliated_  me?"

"I know." Laxus lowered his hands, eyes closing. "Shit, I know. I don't know where to start making up for it."

Freed's anger turned blacker than storm clouds. Hadn't Laxus figured out by now all he wanted was to be seen? To be known, and not called dirty things?

Laxus didn't know him at all.

The truth was cold and terrible. Their friendship, which Freed had treasured for so long, didn't matter. The Dragon Slayer wasn't here to heal the breach between them: all Laxus wanted was to be comfortable.

Even though Freed was disgusted and aching, the realization was agony. Laxus was here for his own sake. Again.

"No idea how to make up for it?" Freed asked, gutteral. "Your fucking loss."

Laxus whipped his eyes up in shock. Freed wanted to break that perfect face.

"I don't want to see you again," he said, trembling as he pointed his sword at the Dragon Slayer's chest. "Leave now and don't you  _ever_  dare come back. I'm off your team. Permanently."

Horrified, Laxus's eyes widened. "But Ever and Bi—"

"Can choose between us. Hell, I'll let you keep your fucking team if you've actually found it in you to take care of people besides yourself. At this point, I don't care about anything as long as I never have to see to your face again."

"But we need you." Laxus's voice was thick with blood and pleading.

"Find someone to replace me," Freed hissed. "Knowing you, it won't be difficult."

Laxus choked.

"I need  _you_ , Freed."

Gods, why did that hurt so much?

"I don't think you do." Freed's throat felt cold, the words dead. "Honestly, I don't care. I lived the last few years without your respect and I managed to survive, so I think you can learn to handle my fucking absence. It'll be good for you. If you even notice I'm gone."

Turning around, he sheathed his sword.

"Get lost or I'll hurt you for real," he called without looking back.

 _I wash my hands of you, you loveless piece of shit._  Laxus would never break his heart again. Freed would make sure of it.

Freed walked back toward the house, leaving Laxus in the street.

"Freed, wait two fucking seconds."

A hand grabbed his arm.

The touch burned him. When Freed tried to hit him, Laxus blocked and grabbed his wrist. He had Freed captive—was touching him, skin on skin. Fear hit Freed's throat and everything exploded.

"Let go!" Freed screamed, tearing out of Laxus's grasp. "Don't touch me!  _Don't ever touch me again!_ "

The sheer panic on the Laxus's face was the best thing Freed had seen all day. He felt sick.

"I-I want to explain before you throw me out on my ass," Laxus stammered. "Can we go inside before I start talking about our sex lives in the middle of the street?"

Quivering, Freed glared. Laxus moved toward the house with back hunched and arms held close, as if scared he would set Freed off.

Freed followed him after a moment, slamming the front door so hard the frame cracked. Laxus flinched.

"I, um," the Dragon Slayer said.

"Something about being raised to hate gays, blah blah. I'm so sorry for you," Freed spat. "Are you still looking for pity? Because you're not getting any. You've been in Fairy Tail your entire life: you can't tell me you never saw two people of the same gender in a relationship before. I  _know_  how terrible Ivan was, but you defied him a hundred different ways in the years since. There's no excuse for the hatred you've spewed at me, and there's  _definitely_  no excuse for you to keep me by your side when you hold zero respect for me."

"Shit." Laxus scrubbed a hand across his red-streaked face.

Crossing to the kitchen, Freed threw a towel at him. "Don't bleed on my floor."

"Thanks."

"Shut up, Laxus." Freed tightened his hands on a chair back, trembling with a thousand emotions and tears he hadn't shed. "So have you always thought so little of me, or is it only since you stopped being able to deny I was gay?"

"I don't…think little of you," Laxus whispered.

"Really? What am I to you: something to masturbate to? You imagine fucking me and giving the middle finger to all the so-called fags?"

"Shitfuck, of course not." Laxus looked appalled. "You make it sound like I'd  _assault_  you."

"It's not much better if I'm the subject of your sexualization," Freed spat. "Or the object of your hatred."

"You're not."

"Then what is it? You're not into guys, but you go looking to sleep with one and cry out my name when you come. What the hell? What the fuck am I missing here?"

"I'm," Laxus took a breath, "…not straight."

Freed's eyebrows tipped upward.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I might be…that."

"Queer?"

"Maybe."

Freed's voice rose. "Is that what this whole fucking thing was about?"

"I don't know." Gazing at the floor, he pressed the bloody towel to his face as if he could hide in it.

Freed let out a cry of frustration that made him jump.

"I don't understand you! You want to fuck with a guy to see if you like it: fine! But why the anonymity and secrecy and 'this is a one-time thing'?"

Freed shook his head, his fingers practically embedded in the chair back. His whole body was tense.

"I thought you were getting better. I thought after all these years you at least respected me—maybe my sexuality made you uncomfortable, but you didn't hate me. You were the one who outed Natsu and Gray's relationship to the guild. Ever tried to set me up with people a few times and you never said anything. You glared at her, but I thought it was getting to be…okay. Maybe we could even b-be equals again."

His voice hitched pitifully, and goddamn Laxus watched him with sad eyes. Freed's stomach did a sickly flip.

"I'm sorry," Laxus stammered. His mouth opened to say more, but he stopped and shook his head.

"Sorry isn't an explanation," Freed said. "I've had enough of your empty apologies. You said you wanted to explain. Hurry up so I can kick you out."

Laxus swallowed.

"The secrecy…was because I didn't want to like it. I figured I'd try it and hate it." He raised his hands. "I know: I'm disgusting. You can say it."

"Just tell me one thing," Freed said, voice shaking. He was so exhausted of being angry. "Why did you prefer a fucking stranger over me? I would've… I think it's pretty obvious I would've said yes."

"I couldn't." Laxus squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't think you could forgive me. I said a lot of terrible things to you back then, and I never apologized for them."

"Really?" Freed's voice went deadly soft. "Despite working together and repairing our friendship and rebuilding our trust, you didn't think I could move on from something you said years ago? If you'd told me you'd grown and were sorry, I would've forgiven you in a  _heartbeat,_ Laxus. I've wanted to clear the air for so long. Instead, you thought it'd be better to fuck me over a dozen ways."

"It's fucked-up, Freed. I won't say it isn't."

"Damn right it's fucked-up! If you want to drag your homophobic baggage around with you, that's your prerogative. But if you take advantage of your anonymous fuckbuddy, which hurt like fucking hell by the way, and then mock the real me—mock me through your fucking orgasm, you bastard—to avoid dealing with your shit… Fuck you. Just fuck you."

Freed was trembling, eyes growing wet.

"You're a disgraceful piece of work."

Laxus jerked when he saw the tear escape down Freed's face.

"Freed." His low voice was infinitely sad.

Sad, like he was a fucking saint overflowing with empathy. Like he was so big-hearted, ready to pity Freed's suffering.

Like he  _cared_.

"Fucking hell," Freed cursed, "does anything I say even touch you? Why am I the only one hurting?"

"I feel terrible!"

"Sure," Freed said thickly. "Whatever you say."

He couldn't see Laxus anymore. Too much water in the way. Hanging his head, Freed pressed his fingers to his eyes and held his breath. He refused to make a sound. He couldn't let Laxus see what a mess he'd made of him.

But he couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking. Despite everything, a sob jerked out of him.

Why did it have to hurt this badly? Why did it have to be heartbreak  _and_  betrayal? Losing love…and losing basic human decency too.

Laxus had ripped everything from him.

As dizziness assaulted him, Freed had to inhale. The ragged sound cut through the room, his uneven breaths choked, like someone dying. Every pain poured out of him, and he wept.

He'd always been able to keep himself in check, but now…the man who betrayed everything stood before him. He couldn't stop his heart from breaking over and over. Emotions rose to the surface no matter how hard he pressed them down: it was his worst nightmare, no longer in control.

He heard an indrawn breath across from the room. That hurt worse, knowing Laxus was  _right there_  and in any other world, Freed would beg for his embrace. In another world, Laxus might give it.

"If you d-dare touch me…" Freed gasped, shuddering.

"I won't." When Laxus's voice sounded usually deep, Freed looked up. The Dragon Slayer had turned to the side, face pale.

There were tears on his cheeks.

Against his will, Freed's heart pounded, particles of his being rebelling against his anger. Worry, concern, a desire to take care of the man he once loved.

_Fuck you._

Why couldn't he just hate Laxus and be finished?

_Because I still care about you after everything you've done to me._

Freed curled in on himself, soaking his palms with the thousands of feelings he'd never expressed. The things he never said, the things he never admitted to wanting. He cried that life had to be so fucking hard: it would be fine if he didn't have a heart, but life wasn't decent enough for that. He couldn't logic his way out of this. There was only aching and hurting and waiting for it to end. Forced to see himself the way Laxus must: an unattractive, overbearing excuse for a friend. A stupid child craving the unattainable.

Gasping in another breath, Freed wiped his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to find composure.

Calm words would end this torture sooner. Calm words would get Laxus out of the house, and then he could fall apart. Then he could stop feeling anything.

Wiping his face, he collected himself with a great effort and faced his worst enemy.

"You know you can't ask me to help put your pieces back in working order," Freed said. "Not this time."

"I know. I'm not asking you to." Laxus looked down. "I'm going to figure my shit out myself. I actually am; I promise. I just…want you to be there. I want your friendship while I do this. If it's still available."

Freed leaned over the chair back on his elbows, resting his face in his hands and swallowing a hiccough. The warm darkness of his palms was comforting.

If it was still available...

Everything had drained out of him with his tears, leaving him like the bloody, worn-out cloth in Laxus's hand.

"I still despise you," Freed muttered, hating himself for not having the strength to stay pissed.

"When you hate someone, you usually have a right to. You don't hate without good reason."

Freed shook his head. Laxus being the mature one. Laxus being kind.

With Freed's anger in embers now, he wanted explanations. He wanted this constant ache out of his chest—maybe even the ability to sleep again. Gods, he would love to sleep. For a thousand years, until this pain was a distant memory.

"Say your piece," Freed told him wearily. "I'll hear you out."

Glancing at him, Laxus dabbed at the red mess that was his face.

"This." Laxus pointed to his nose and eye socket swelling with black. "Ivan used to do this when I looked at...pretty boys for too long. Actually, Ivan did worse."

* * *

Shocked, Freed jerked his head up to meet Laxus's eyes. Freed's pale, bloodless face made him ache.  _I did that to him._

"What?" Freed asked.

"Ivan," Laxus repeated, picking at his scarred fingers. "Boys that were pretty meant…beatings."

"Gods." Freed hung his head, hair swinging in front of his expression. "Let's sit."

They arranged themselves at opposite ends of the sofa, effortless and awkward at the same time. Laxus kept searching out Freed's eyes. The rune wizard finally seemed calm—a stark contrast to the rabid, uncontrolled Freed of a short while ago. Laxus never wanted to bring out that side of Freed again.

"I'm listening," Freed prompted.

Laxus's stomach knotted, acid in his mouth. He could say this.

"Two men together was pretty high up the list of things Ivan hated. He said people should only get married to have offspring," Laxus recited. "Falling in love is a waste of time. You can't trust people—everyone will hurt you eventually. So being gay is pointless: you can't reproduce and you're just weakening yourself for an alliance that will come back to bite you."

"Damn," Freed said.

"No shit," Laxus said, breathless. It was hard to replay Ivan's words. "He was a messed-up son of a bitch. I still tried to do it, though—be like him. Tried to be the strongest. Didn't have time for relationships. Still thought gays were weak."

"Why?"

Laxus shrugged. "I may hate him, but I've always wanted to be strong. He taught me to hate other boys as competition. To keep my distance or I'd end up the bottom rung, I guess. You know I didn't have many friends. Kinda distances you from your peers when physical contact is punishable by fist."

Freed's hand flew to his mouth.

"He hit you for—"

Laxus frowned, stare hawklike. "You knew about that."

They both knew Freed was aware where he got so many of his childhood injuries. The most Laxus ever said about it in adulthood was,  _Not all my bruises came from missions_ , but he knew Freed figured it out long before. So they never had to actually say it. Even when Laxus told him the story of his lacrima…he couldn't admit to the beatings. It was an admission of weakness. He couldn't.

"Yes," Freed said softly, "I knew it was going on."

When Freed hung his head, it hit him: Freed was ashamed.

Of what? He couldn't have stopped it. Ivan would've torn Freed to pieces.

"He did it because you liked boys?" Freed whispered. " _That_  was the reason? All this time, and I never…"

Freed didn't say  _I'm sorry_ , but Laxus could read it in every line of his body.

In the ensuing silence, Freed's hand landed on Laxus's arm, the touch natural after so many years as friends. Freed cared about him far more than anyone should. Far more than anyone else ever had. Laxus hunched, trying not to notice every point at which Freed's fingers connected with his skin.

"Liking boys was one of many reasons. I think he maybe knew I was…not straight. Probably showed on my face every time—"

Laxus winced. Every time he saw Freed or Wan or some of the other boys…his face probably lit up like the moon.

"Master never knew?" Freed whispered.

"No. But Ivan was exiled eventually. Took care of the problem."

Freed bit his lip hard, and Laxus could see him restraining furious words:  _he got put out of the guild when he almost killed you._

"Jijii raised me a lot of the time," Laxus went on. "Ivan was busy with work. Maybe Jijii suspected what was happening and took care of me to protect me. I don't know. But there were lots of good times; I'm not a sob story."

Freed squeezed his arm. "I know."

Laxus's heart trilled. He was way out on thin ice here. He didn't know what to do so far from solid land—how to stay safe in this minefield, or if safety was even what he wanted. But Freed was beside him, like always. It made him able to suck in a breath, exhale, and be strong.

"I never knew you were beaten for this," Freed said quietly. "Gods. So when we hung out, if I touched you at all and he saw…he punished you later?"

Cold crawled up Laxus's throat.

"Pretty much."

"Was it just for bigger things?" Freed's voice was high. "Hugs or…big things. Right?"

"It was for anything." Laxus fluttered his fingertips over Freed's arm, satisfied at the way Freed shook. "Any kind of touch."

Freed's eyes widened.

"That was why you never— why you always—"

"Yes."

"You never got too close. Never joined the fights, never…"

As light dawned in Freed's eyes, relief flooded Laxus's system.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry." Freed gripped tighter. "Getting slapped around is bad enough. But when your only method for survival isolates you from other people…"

"...Yeah."

Freed almost looked like he would cry again, and Laxus panicked, but the rune mage sucked a breath.

"And if you liked boys… I can't imagine having to lock part of yourself away from that kind of violence."

"Part?" Laxus's voice cracked. "I don't think this is just a part."

Freed met his eyes, careful and scrutinizing. Laxus was aware of every centimeter that lay—and did  _not_  lie—between them.

"What do you mean?"

"I never felt before what I did with you," Laxus whispered, looking down at Freed's hand.

"Maybe I'm just that good." Freed's lips turned up, but his eyes were still sad.

"Possibly."

Laxus put a hand over Freed's. Gods, was this allowed? Could Laxus have his pathetic little touch? He needed this, needed to hold Freed's hand so he could say this. He looked up into Freed's eyes.

"I always thought about men when I shagged women. That's not normal, is it?"

"Of course it's normal."

Laxus jerked. "It is?"

"Yes. I've known plenty of gay men who felt the same way."

_Gay._

"Freed," Laxus shivered, "don't hate me for this…"

"I won't," Freed said confidently.

Laxus stilled.

"But you hated me—rightly—just minutes ago."

"Wrongly," Freed corrected, lips twisting. "And I stopped being angry before you explained. I can't stay mad at you, Laxus. I'm no good at it."

The exhaustion dragging at Freed's features broke him. He'd hurt this man so much.

"Nothing you say right now will make me hate you," Freed promised.

Doubt still crept around the edges of Laxus's heart. Fear. Fear of Freed—and of his own emotions. Fear of getting hurt. Of breaking.

Freed caressed Laxus's cheek, abruptly halting Laxus's brain. The touch was too good to be true; Laxus couldn't fully process it. Selfish as it was, he leaned into Freed's palm, drawing courage from it.

"Freed, I don't want to be gay."

"That's okay. You can call yourself whatever you want, Laxus. You don't have to use a label. You don't have to tell people if you don't want. Although you shouldn't lie to your sexual partner next time."

Swallowing, Laxus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Freed's fingers found his scar, gliding up and down in soothing strokes, and all of a sudden, it was a lot easier to relax.

Next sexual partner. What did that mean?

"I'm sorry I didn't understand," Freed whispered. "Fuck. This was partly my fault. When you didn't communicate, I assumed. I assumed you were using me and…I'm sorry. I can't believe I was so callous."

"I'm hard to live with," Laxus rumbled. "I know that."

He was always being an asshole to someone. He knew he wasn't nice.

"No, Laxus. You're just fine."

They both inhaled.

"You're magnificent," Freed whispered.

Warm breath kissed Laxus's face as Freed put their foreheads together. A tornado blew through him, whipping up his insides, unwinding the knot his gut had settled in.

"Laxu—" Freed began.

"I'm sorry, Freed," he interrupted, not wanting to break the moment with reality. Not wanting to hear whatever awaited on Freed's tongue—to be pushed away when he had finally admitted what he wanted. "I'm so sorry."

"Laxus…"

The Dragon Slayer tried not to tense, but he couldn't help it, jerking away to wrap his arms around himself. He shivered. Something bad was about to happen.

Freed leaned in and put his head in the crook of Laxus's shoulder.

"It's okay," Freed said.

Laxus unraveled. He pressed closer to Freed, that green hair against his cheek, Freed's scent surrounding him. The smell held relief, a final easing of all the pain he'd carried for so long. Suddenly brave, Laxus wrapped his arms around him and Freed sighed contentedly.

It was actually real.

He almost said  _I'm never letting go_ , but the moment was too precious, too fragile. He couldn't break it with promises regarding a future he wasn't even sure Freed wanted. Screw tomorrow: he had Freed right now and that was enough. It was more than enough.

He put his affection into the embrace instead, holding Freed tight enough that nothing could drag him away.

They were both angled across the sofa toward each other, which wasn't exactly comfortable, but Laxus wouldn't have moved for all the world. His world had finally stopped moving—had come to a resting place for the first time in his life.

Freed saw him, his true self, and everything was okay.

**Chapter 11: The G Word**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Bickslow will come back, of course… Seeing Freed angry freaked him out.
> 
> See, I didn't end on a bad note. I'm not completely evil.
> 
> Show of hands, who cried? *raises both hands*


	11. The G Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus flirts with Freed.

Laxus held Freed for a long time, the two of them just sitting there on the sofa, enjoying each other's presence.

At one point, Freed jerked as if restless. When it happened again, Laxus asked, "Are you alright?"

"Honestly," Freed with a sad chuckle, "I'm trying not to nod off."

"Trouble sleeping?"

"I never got around to the sleeping part," Freed admitted.

Laxus stretched back and guided Freed's head down into his lap. It felt as natural as breathing, and lightness swept through his body at that realization. Freed didn't pull away, didn't resist, didn't ask questions. Green eyes closing, he relaxed as if for the first time in his life.

Laxus ran his fingers through Freed's hair in slow strokes and heard his breath even out immediately. He really was exhausted.

As the script mage's expression went slack, Laxus could see peace settle over him. With long legs stretched across the sofa and one hand curled against Laxus's thigh, he looked natural in a way Laxus had never seen him: more vulnerable, his careful control gone.

Like this, Freed looked simultaneously strong and so much more: he wasn't trying to conceal his proficiencies like he usually did. While Freed was considerably shorter than Laxus, he was all hardness: muscle and bone with nothing extra. Freed's attractiveness was in his cut figure; in long fingers with thick calluses telling the story of both sword and written word; and in an intellect that could keep up with any mind, in or outside of battle. Looking at him now, it was like he could see all of Freed, from that beautiful brain to his dedicated loyalty—all of it coded into the body in Laxus's lap.

Laxus smiled with a warmth he could finally acknowledge.

 _I'm gay._  The word felt right. It was terrifying, full of dark promises, but he could also hear all the good things in it, too. Gay meant feeling love; feeling joy; feeling connection. It meant being able to be himself and not afraid. Gay meant he could care about Freed.

Right now, he felt truly happy.

He didn't know how long he sat there, Freed's head in his lap, watching the rune mage sleep with a soft smile on his face.

A bang on the door made him jerk, and he squeezed Freed to his chest without thinking. When he realized Freed was rubbing his eyes and trying to rise, Laxus eased his grip and Freed leaned against his shoulder. Looking around in post-sleep confusion, Freed ran a hand through his hair.

"Is that…?"

"I've got it," Laxus said.

As he rose, his hand brushed over Freed's leg, making Freed yelp. It was  _exactly_  the same noise he'd made the first time Laxus had met his 'anonymous lover' and reached out to touch him in the dark, and it made him smile.

When he opened the front door, Bickslow and Ever gave him hard, scrutinizing looks. The first thing Laxus noticed was that they'd eschewed visor and glasses, leaving their eyes bare. Oh hell.

"What's up?" he asked, smiling considerably less.

"Are you okay?" Bickslow looked him up and down.

"Yes."

"Freed looked like he was going to kill." Bickslow shuddered nervously.

"Does my soul look dead to you?"

"No," Bickslow sulked, but Ever rolled her eyes.

"Where is he?" she demanded, trying to push past.

Laxus blocked her path.

"Sleeping."

Laxus winced as they both fixed him with startled expressions.  _Sleeping. With you. Together._

"He's been having a hard time lately," Ever said slowly.

"Yeah, I know." Laxus squinted down at the front step. "I think he's okay now."

"What happened between you two?" Bickslow asked, as Ever tried to shush him.

"We got in a fight," Laxus growled. "We're over it now."

Both teammates froze, staring at him as if waiting for more, and Laxus narrowed his eyes.

"I fucked up. He had a fit. I apologized. We're good now. Everything's back to normal."

"The rest isn't our business," Ever said, in a way that indicated she thought it was.

"No, it isn't."

Sighing, Ever tugged on Bickslow's arm. "Let Freed rest. He hardly slept this last week."

_Wait...all week?_

Bickslow resisted Ever's pull. "Are you sure you two are going to be okay?"

Ever and Laxus shot him looks, Laxus's predatory.

"You think I can't handle his anger? Or take care of him, for that matter? He's a teammate, for gods' sakes. Does nobody believe in my capabilities?"

"We believe you," Bickslow said, raising his hands. "Calm the hell down. Let us know when he's doing okay."

As Ever dragged him down the steps, she called back, "He really did have everyone worried. I'm glad he's alright."

"Me too," Laxus muttered.

When he closed the door and turned around, Freed was leaning back into the sofa watching him.

"Got them to go away," Laxus grunted, while Freed's mouth quirked like he was holding back a chuckle.

"I noticed."

Laxus smiled.

"Still tired?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Freed said quickly. "The nap was refreshing."

Laxus's brows drew down.

"Ever said you haven't slept this week."

Freed's smile faltered.

"It's been…long," he said.

Striding over, Laxus sat down next to him, not sure how to apologize for everything, but Freed leaned his head on Laxus's shoulder again and everything else became superfluous.

"Do you think," Laxus asked after a minute, "they'll realize I'm different?"

Freed started as if he'd fallen asleep again and Laxus instantly felt guilty. Goddamn, here was Laxus bringing up his stupid insecurities, while Freed needed rest from him.

"We're a team." Freed yawned. "So they might, depending on if…we're…something. But they won't judge you."

Laxus growled low in his throat. _I judge myself._

And what did 'something' mean? Was Freed saying 'if' out of consideration, assuming Laxus might not want to be together, or was it because Freed himself wasn't sure he wanted it?

"I think I'm the only one who knows you're homophobic," Freed murmured, voice drifting. " _Were_. Were homophobic. So nobody will think it…hypocritical if you date a man."

"I dunno; I'm still pretty damn scared of being gay," Laxus muttered, half to himself.

"Laxus." Freed put a hand on his arm, those hard fingers skimming over Laxus's skin and making him break out in gooseflesh. "It's going to be okay."

Wrapping Freed in his arms, Laxus pulled him against his chest and, throwing his insecurity to the wind, he kissed Freed's hair. Freed sighed. Happy.

Gods, Laxus wanted him. Not his body, but the whole person. Wanted him so badly that the tension was building back up inside him. How exactly did this work? Laxus had never asked a man out, nor a person he had such a heaping crush on for that matter, for whom his intentions went beyond a first date…

But these thoughts weren't in need of resolution right this moment, because Freed was drooping again, breaths sluggish.

"So tired," Freed murmured, and he truly had to be if he was admitting it.

"Just rest."

Laxus frowned a little when Freed pulled them to their feet instead, though the rune mage made no effort to get Laxus to let go of him—not that the Dragon Slayer would've. Freed moved toward the bedroom.

"What?" Laxus faltered.

"Just to lie down." Freed looked away, a nervous tremor running through him. "I'm exhausted and you look tired… Come lie down with me."

When they lay down on the narrow futon, Freed curled alongside Laxus without hesitation. The rune wizard fit perfectly against him, his forehead against Laxus's chin.

Laxus pulled Freed into himself and fell asleep with Freed snoring against his chest.

* * *

Laxus woke up when Freed rose to get a glass of water. Following, Laxus leaned on the doorframe watching him. He had a pert ass. Firm, graceful movements. Freed turned around, saw him looking, and smirked.

Propping himself against the counter opposite, Freed stared at him and Laxus stared back.

"You asked if Ever and Bickslow would notice," Freed said. "Laxus, tell me what you want. How do you want to hide this—or do you?"

Laxus released a heavy sigh.

"I'm not sure," he said honestly. "I don't want the guild to know. I can't…just no. When it comes to the team, I don't know  _how_  to tell them. I've said for so long I'm straight; it's embarrassing to 'change my mind.'"

"Okay," Freed said. "If you don't want people knowing, just don't tell people. As long as you don't bring any men to the guild, you'll be fine."

Laxus's lips tipped up in a smile. "Easy."

"There are a few other people of concern," Freed said, walking over until they stood chest to chest.

Laxus cocked his head.

"They'll smell us on each other."

Oh. He looked down at their feet, taking Freed's hands, thankful this touch was okay.

"Is it okay if we get rid of the scents?" he asked. "I can't handle people knowing this about me yet, Freed. I'm still getting used to thinking of this as alright."

"The Dragon Slayers and their mates would be discreet," Freed pointed out. "Except for Natsu, and I'm pretty sure you can shut him up."

Laxus grunted, a sad smile climbing his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

Freed frowned, gripping Laxus's fingers. "Why?"

"I can't deal with coming out. I don't think you're— _we're_  disgusting: I just…"

"Have to re-train your brain," Freed filled in smoothly. "I figured. Overcoming ideas that were beaten into you…it's one of the hardest things a person can do."

He was so grateful Freed understood that.

Freed's expression turned practical. "I should go to the guild. I've been worrying Mira. And Ever won't be satisfied until she sees for herself I'm not as haggard as yesterday."

"How haggard were you?"

"Let's just say I hope you never have to see me like that."

Something foreign cracked under Laxus's sternum at the words. When he pulled Freed flush against him, Freed's expression jumped in surprise.

"If I'd been there, I would've taken care of you," Laxus said.

Freed had the audacity to laugh. "It's my job to take care—"

"Stop it," Laxus growled. "You don't have to carry the entire fucking world on your shoulders, Freed."

Freed's mouth opened and closed a few times, his eyes terribly sad.

"Let's go to the guild," he said at last, but Laxus continued to glare. "What?"

"This is what I want.  _You._ " Laxus's voice rose with his heartbeat. "I'm not going to hurt you or— Whatever it is you think I'm doing, I'm not. I'm trying to be honest about everything this time. Do you not believe me?"

"I do…"

"Then why are you brushing me off? I  _care_  about you."

"I'm not trying to." Freed bit his lip. "I'm not good at letting people take care of me."

"Freed." He swallowed. "I want to be with you."

Freed's eyes widened, both disbelieving and desperate.

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

Laxus heard his pulse speed up. He could smell every nuance of Freed's scent, could feel Freed's hands sweating in his. When he reached up to touch Freed's face, the man gasped, chest rising unevenly like he'd forgotten how breathing worked.

Laxus tipped Freed's head back and kissed him.

Freed's heart crashed and he gripped Laxus tightly. Freed was enthusiastic in kissing him, making Laxus feel loved as Freed let his need show.

It took a couple seconds before Freed let Laxus between his lips, trying to control the kiss but finally surrendering to Laxus's slow exploration of his mouth. As he melted into Laxus's touch, the Dragon Slayer threaded his fingers through Freed's hair and drew his head to the side for more access, rewarded with a soft groan.

When Laxus let up, Freed's pupils were dilated.

"Oh," Freed whispered.

"See? Why wouldn't you want me doing that to you every day?"

"I—I would like that."

"So let up on being perfect."

"Okay." Freed smiled. "I've spent too long worrying about being good enough."

Blinking, Laxus held Freed at arm's length.

"For what?"

"Um." Freed blushed. His words came out tiny and fast. "You,nowlet'sgototheguildalready."

Bubbles rose through the lightning mage's body. He grinned broadly.

"What was that?"

"Shut up." Freed tried to duck away, but Laxus wrapped his arms around him.

"No really," Laxus teased. " _Who_  did you want to be good enough for?"

"You've got a big enough head already," Freed muttered.

"Yet somehow you managed to fit it up your ass. Oh, you meant the other head."

Freed choked, and Laxus didn't think victory had ever tasted so sweet.

"I'm getting you back for that."

"You've gotten me on my back a lot recently," Laxus replied.

Freed shut his eyes. "I can't believe you're beating me at a game of innuendo when I'm the flamboyant one."

Laxus pushed Freed's hair behind his ear as an excuse to touch his face. "This is the result of me keeping all those dirty thoughts pent up for so long," he said.

"Not dirty," Freed said, moving into his embrace. "Clean and good."

Laxus held him for a long time, Freed's grip around his waist tight enough to stifle his breath, and Laxus loved it. This was real: Freed wasn't going away.

"Freed," he said, brushing his fingers through strands of green. "Would you go out with me?"

Freed stilled.

Shit. Laxus's pulse crashed like thunder.

"You just had to ask first," Freed chuckled.

The Dragon Slayer could've laughed in relief.

"Well, you got to have sex with me first."

"Funny, I recall you being there too," Freed snorted.

"Not the same." Laxus ran a finger slowly down Freed's face to stroke his lips, thrills shivering up his body. "That kiss just now…"

"Felt different?"

"Better."

Apparently it was a good answer, because Freed grabbed him and kissed him, long and slow, every second lasting an hour. Laxus couldn't remember when Freed's hands cupped his face, but when they separated, the Dragon Slayer was panting from Freed caressing his scar. The sweet touches ached in a happy, needing way.  _So this is being romantically attracted to someone_.

"Freed," he said when he could speak again, "you didn't actually answer me."

"Of course I'll go out with you." Freed smacked his arm. "You didn't even need to ask."

"I actually did. I won't do this halfway. I've hurt you a lot over the years: you have to let me undo that. Let show you what I really think of you."

"I don't  _have_  to do anything," Freed corrected, smiling. "But I'm eager to find out."

They hugged again, Laxus leaning his head against Freed's. Freed rubbed his arm. "Guild now?"

"Scents first."

"Right."

Laxus made sure to kiss Freed again at that point, which turned into hands roaming and pulling away with regret, only to start again.

"This is fucking hard," Freed grumbled, regretfully letting go of Laxus's shirt.

Laxus opened his mouth to let out a spicy retort, but Freed shoved a palm over his lips, laughing.

"No. Don't tempt me."

They showered—separately, or they  _really_  wouldn't have gone anywhere—and then Laxus ruined it by kissing Freed again. (He justified it since they always smelled like each other  _a little_.) Eventually, they walked out Freed's door.

**Chapter 12: A Test**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those naive darlings, they're not out of the woods yet. xD


	12. A Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed is badass. Afterward it's Laxus's turn to be super pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this as fast as I could for MyFictionalFantasy's sake. Speedy recovery, lovely. Hope this is a nice distraction.

As Freed locked his front door, Laxus glanced around and slipped an arm around his waist. The script mage turned to him in surprise.

Laxus shrugged. "There's no one around. I thought I'd see what it felt like."

Freed beamed.

Laxus pulled away as they left the shadowed safety of the doorstep, but the feeling of Freed's warm body—and vision of Freed smiling like the sun was out—kept him bolstered.

When Fairy Tail came into view, anxiety doused his confidence like a wave of water, filling his head with voices: people would be able to tell; word would get out; they were going to judge him. Worst of all, someone would tell Freed he could do better and Laxus wouldn't be able to deny it, because it was true.

But if he had to work to keep Freed, that at least was probably good for him. The least he could do after all these years of stupidity was try to be good enough for Freed.

* * *

When Freed and Laxus walked in, three pairs of eyes tracked them. Mira was grateful when Freed approached her before the Raijinshuu. Laxus remained at his side.

As the two men leaned on the bar, all seemed normal: Freed smiled and Laxus gave the guildhall a casual onceover. But Freed's eyes crinkled up in unfeigned joy while Laxus's stare lacked its usual sternness.

Then Laxus's hand came up to rest on the back of Freed's arm for a moment—a tiny gesture, but one so foreign for the Dragon Slayer Mira saw it as if there was a spotlight on that single touch.

"So?" Mira asked Freed, cocking an eyebrow.

"Just so." Freed grinned at her—and dammit if it wasn't the most at peace he looked in his entire life.

Mira wanted to be happy for him, but too much hardness steeled her. Laxus had proven himself pretty fucking manipulative.

"Laxus?" she asked. "Well?"

"You two can apparently communicate without saying anything. I lack that proficiency," he grumbled. He looked over his shoulder at where Gajeel sat as if to say ears could overhear. But Mirajane shook her head.

"If you're in this for real, you need to prove it."

"Mira—" Freed tried to interrupt.

"I've already proven it to the person whose opinion matters," Laxus growled at her, making Freed blush.

" _That person's_  opinion of you has been biased for a long time. I'm not so lenient, and I remember picking up said person's spirits time and again when you were an ass. I know how much damage you can do. So prove it to me, Laxus."

"Gods, will you even let me into this discussion?" Freed exclaimed.

"No, Freed," Mira said, leveling him a serious look. "This is between us. About protecting those we care about." She glared at Laxus. "Or claim to care about."

Laxus's expression hitched, anger barely under control, and he moved closer to Freed, looming. Well, that was something.

Right as the Dragon Slayer opened his mouth to retort, Freed raised his arm between them, colliding with Laxus's chest.

"Stop it. Mira, not everyone can just  _come out_. There's more to this than you know about. If you want proof, ask the questions elsewhere."

His determination had an edge to it: aware, not blinding himself with lovesick hope.

"Come here," she said, pulling Freed into a hug across the bar and kissing his cheek. "I love you, darling."

"I know."

They both chuckled.

Laxus scowled.

"Don't look like that," Mira retorted. "We've been exchanging those words since long before you noticed anything."

"What words?" Bickslow asked, the two Raijinshuu bracketing their teammates at the bar and sitting down.

"Laxus is an ass," Mira said smoothly.

Laxus glared at her.

"Freed is too," Evergreen said, swinging an arm around the script mage's neck. "Glad you're alive."

"Of course." Freed rolled his eyes. "If hellhounds ate me, who would make you dinner on Thursdays?"

"It's sweet how you take my needs into account."

When Evergreen jerked lightly on him in jest, Laxus jerked too. Neither of the women missed the way Laxus shifted closer to Freed. Mira could see the wheels turning in Evergreen's head, gaze flitting from the Dragon Slayer to Freed's incessant smile.

At the other end of the group, Bickslow couldn't see around Laxus's shoulder.

"Why is Laxus an ass?" he asked, leaning across the bar to join the conversation.

"Am not," Laxus growled.

Bickslow tilted his head in disbelief. "You sure? I almost brought Mirajane to come talk Freed out of murdering you."

"What stopped you?" Mira asked.

"Couldn't find you."

"Wait, you're serious?" she laughed.

"Freed was being fucking scary," Bickslow muttered. "I came here first, but neither of you ladies were around. I had to fly to Ever's and evict her from bed. I kept worrying what kind of scene we'd find by the time we got to Freed's."

"Look, I'm sorry, everyone," Freed sighed. His vexation just barely covered the blush Mira saw on his cheeks. Beside him, Laxus looked distinctly uncomfortable. "It was…whatever, it doesn't matter. It was stupid. Sorry for freaking you out, Bickslow. Are we good now?"

As Bickslow nodded, Laxus rumbled, "It was not stupid."

Freed blinked in astonishment—and so did everyone else. Laxus shot Mira a look of challenge before turning back to Freed.

"Stop apologizing like anything was your fault," he said. "You had every right to be pissed." Laxus slid his hand into Freed's on the bar. "Don't belittle yourself to spare me."

Laxus shut his mouth. Everyone gaped.

Freed blinked several times before settling down beside the man, staring in childlike delight at their still-clasped hands. Mira's heart was finally shining with sunlight, necessary proof satisfied: Laxus truly cared. Enough to show it in front of others. Enough to embarrass himself.

Evergreen stared at their hands with a slowly mounting smile, but Bickslow continued gaping.

"Wait, what?" He pulled his visor off. "Are you—?"

"Don't." Laxus turned on him. "No crowing and spewing our personal life to everyone else."

Mira bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. He looked so fierce and defenseless at the same time. Bickslow shook his head, mouth still open, and looked uncertainly at Evergreen.

"So are we going on a mission soon?" she asked, as if nothing had happened. "Because I have a...friend who asked me to join them on a quest and I need to give them an answer."

"Oh!" Mira reached into her pocket. "I'm supposed to give you this. The bandits you dispatched a week ago are back."

Frowning, Freed took the paper from her, which forced him and Laxus to disengage their twined fingers. The Lightning Dragon Slayer rested his chin on his palm, looking grumpy.

"It was a blackmail scheme, actually," Freed told her. "They effectively ruined half the town between receiving payouts and revealing secrets that destroyed people's lives. They were using magic to discover  _very_  impertinent details."

"But we rounded them all up," Laxus said, frowning. "You even cracked that language you'd never seen before."

Freed glanced up at him, a glowing smile climbing his face.  _Oh honey._  He had no idea how long Laxus had been watching him.  _Laxus_  didn't know how long Laxus had been watching him.

"Apparently we didn't get all of them." Freed said, looking at the paper again. "Well, that answers your question, Ever. Time for us to go."

* * *

There was only one wizard to track down, but she was by far the most difficult of the gang.

She was a rune mage, which made blindingly obvious sense. Freed couldn't believe he hadn't realized it—the woman they captured who claimed to be the maker of the orange barrier wasn't smart enough to create her own language. Freed should've known they'd missed someone.

Because that's what the language was: cobbled together from bits and pieces of others. It was a damn good thing Freed had been studying her runes all week.

He and Laxus had split off from Ever and Bickslow, combing the town looking for magical anomalies that would announce her presence. Freed barely stopped Laxus from walking into a trap, and seconds later they saw a shadow darting away. When Freed quickly undid the several snares she'd put up, they made chase.

"Smarter than you look, greenie," she called back.

Her fingers blurred and runes flew, but Freed was just as fast at countering them while Laxus attacked with strikes she barely dodged. She wasn't moving fast, running backward as she wrote: only the fact that Freed had to counter her spells before Laxus could barge through kept them from overtaking her.

Her path seemed erratic at first, making Freed wonder if she had a destination in mind at all.

As she backed around another corner, a brick wall halted her. Laxus snorted in derision and threw an attack she barely shielded herself from.

"Trapped now," Laxus grunted, just as the woman smiled.

"Wait!" Freed called, but they had already gone too far.

Cones of orange runes swirled up around each of them—too detailed for her to have written just now. A pre-established trap.

Laxus took one look at the orange light and sparks covered his skin so bright Freed couldn't look at him. He knew what the Dragon Slayer was going to do, but there wasn't enough time to call him off—and Laxus wouldn't have listened anyway.

Laxus threw a burst of lightning at the runes.

It was enough to rip through lesser enchantments, but this…Freed had a feeling she'd written this with them in mind.

The victory in her eyes made his blood run cold.  _Laxus._

The barrier held, sparkling and jittering with the excess energy. And then—

Water crashed into Laxus, water out of nowhere, dissipating the lightning on his skin and knocking him flat to the ground. It swelled around him, held in by the barrier, rising to a height well above the Dragon Slayer's head.

"Laxus!"

Freed didn't know he was yelling until he heard the shouted name.  _Please._

Laxus choked, completely off-guard, but he gained his footing and shot up through the water, seeking air.

But the water stayed around him, a bubble trapping him as he fell back to earth. Mouth closed, Laxus was no longer wasting air, but how long would it last?

Frantic seconds ticked past as Freed thought of everything he could and could not do. He couldn't reach Laxus with his magic, couldn't fight his way to the woman with his sword, couldn't rewrite these runes fast enough.

Laxus was clearly trying to use magic, but the water dissipated his electricity. Convulsing once, he tried to strike the barrier with his fist but failed to reach it. He was running out of time. Out of air. Freed couldn't save him.

 _My Laxus._  It couldn't be happening.

The enemy rune mage was grinning. When Laxus convulsed again, she let out a breathless chuckle.

"Stop!" Freed screamed.

She smiled.

"There's a price."

"I'll fucking pay it!" he yelled, already knowing what it would be.

"Your secr—"

"Yes, anything!"

The water level sank back down, leaving a drenched Dragon Slayer behind. Laxus crouched, coughing up water but raising wary arms in defense. Freed could've shouted for joy.

The woman's fingers moved through the air and runes glowed, adding to the cage around Freed. He understood enough to know they required absolute truth.

"I have three questions for you. Answer or you'll find yourself without air. What do you regret most?"

Freed sighed. Of course these weren't going to be easy.

"Freed?" Laxus coughed. Freed held out a placating hand.

"When I told…"

He meant to say 'him' but the sound got stuck in his throat. As the runes glowed, Freed choked around what felt like a fist stopping up his esophagus.

"Full names only, dear," the woman said. "I should've mentioned."

_Fine._

"When I told Laxus Dreyar I was gay."

Laxus inhaled sharply, drawing Freed's gaze—when their eyes met, Laxus's expression was vulnerable and heartbreaking.

"Interesting," she said, eyes brightening. "I take it that's you, big man? How very interesting."

Her smile was amused and cruel. Freed breathed deep, trying to hide his distress. He would not let her take pleasure in his life.

"Second question: whom do you hate most?"

"Ivan Dreyar."

The answer was immediate. He couldn't look at Laxus as he said it, too wrapped up in his own fury to handle seeing whatever emotions Laxus was struggling with. Ivan Dreyar had destroyed Laxus's ability to trust. He'd beaten his son and Freed knew full well every laceration and bruise he'd ever seen on Laxus when they were kids was Ivan's fault.

Freed loathed that man.

As soon as the name came out of his mouth, light appeared in front of him, plain characters spelling out:  _Ivan Dreyar_.

"Whom do you love most?"

Another one he could answer without thinking. Still, he paused before saying, "Laxus Dreyar."

The name appeared above Ivan's. Of all the things running through Freed's head, he seethed at seeing them so close together. Ivan's name should never appear on the same fucking surface as Laxus's.

The woman fell into helpless, gut-heavy laughter.

"Are you serious?" she wheezed. "You're just all wrapped up in that family, aren't you?"

Freed stayed silent: he'd answered three questions.

"That explains your desperation to save him. How adorable," she chuckled, wiping her eyes. "How long have you loved him?"

"Those aren't the rules," Freed said. Thank the gods, the rules were absolute.

"Not if I change them." She smirked.

Freed's eyes widened in protest as she twiddled over a line of runes. Seconds later, the air thinned and Freed gasped a rough breath.

"How long?" she asked again, looking dangerous now.

When he opened his mouth to answer, wind swept out of him, the runes pulling oxygen from his mouth. Black spots appeared on the edge of his vision.  _Already. Fuck._  The magic wasn't going to let him answer.

"Four…half…years," he managed, lungs squeezing on emptiness.

Just like that, the air was back, punching him in the chest. He fell to his knees panting.

"Good boy."

Her sneer turned on Laxus.

"How do you feel about that, big guy? Your gay little friend pining after you for four and a half years."

Hearing his truth like that made Freed grimace. It sounded so pathetic.

"Freed," Laxus called. "Can you breathe?"

Freed nodded.

"Answer!" the woman commanded, hand lifting as if to write.

Realizing the precarious position he was in, Laxus burst out, "Like an asshole. But not as much as you are."

"I like you," she chuckled. "I have a feeling I'd never need runes to make you be honest."

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." Laxus snarled it like a threat.

"I'm bored." She waved a hand. "Enjoy your stay, little wizards."

"Where are you going?"

"To collect your friends. Honestly, why did you bother coming back here? You," she looked at Freed, "already know I'm better than you. Besides, it's not like I've harmed anyone." She smirked. "Isn't that what you guild mages care about?"

Freed rose to his feet. "You're too smart to actually believe that."

"One man died," Laxus put in, spitting on the ground. "When you let everyone know a man and his best friend had an affair, the friend killed himself. That was your doing."

"He could've paid me."

For a moment, Freed couldn't see through his rage.

"That's murder," he said, deadly soft.

"If you think that's bad, you should hear what I have on the mayor and her husband." She grinned. "If they don't kill themselves, they'll kill each other. Guaranteed."

"Or what? Give you the town to keep you quiet?"

"Oh, I'm not blackmailing them. I've got other clients who requested the mayor dead, and I'm doing it in a way that makes it nobody's fault so there's no trial. In other words, I haven't harmed anyone, but I'm certainly about to."

"Disgusting," Laxus spat. "Aren't you all smart and special."

"I am rather smart."

Waving a breezy farewell, she began climbing the high fence at the end of the alley.

"Wait patiently, boys," she called.

"You're not going to dispose of us while you have us?" Laxus snarled.

"You're a bargaining chip. And you're not going anywhere. I wrote these runes for you specially, greenie."

Winking at Freed, she disappeared.

"Shit," Laxus said, terse.

"I can undo this like last time," Freed assured him.

"I know. You're smarter than her, Freed."

Freed flushed and inspected the script.

It wasn't quite the same wording as before—thank the gods he could decipher it much better. He just had to get through the wall of orange light long enough to reach the runes.

When he touched the hilt of his sword to the barrier, the metal sizzled.

"Don't!" Laxus shouted from his own enchanted prison. "I can't electrify it for you, Freed. You'll lose your arm."

"I don't think so. It's different this time."

If he was reading this correctly, it focused on blocking magic more than physical bodies: she must have assumed Freed's runes had pierced the wall last time. This time, he might be able to get his hands through for a short while before it did too much damage, as long as his magic was strong, which wasn't a problem: their earlier exertions hardly drained him. The orange light would drain his magic power like last time, but he could write quickly.

Of course, this was all theory.

Freed looked down at his palms. His dominant hand for writing and the sword was his right: if he lost the little finger on his left, it wouldn't hinder him too much. Taking a deep breath, he held out the finger and moved toward the barrier.

"What the hell are you doing, Freed? Stop!"

"I have to find out if I can undo this or not."

"No— Stop, you idiot! I said, _no!_ "

At Laxus's pained shout, Freed looked up.

The Dragon Slayer plunged his own arm through the light.

Freed's insides seized. Laxus's sleeve burst into flames and disappeared in a matter of seconds. He lunged so quickly his nose brushed the barrier, bleeding immediately. But his arm remained in one piece.

Grunting, the Dragon Slayer retracted his limb. The raw, pink flesh got steadily worse farther up his shoulder. Freed inhaled sharply. It wasn't bleeding, but it looked pretty damn close. Like last time, the damage got worse the closer it got to one's core. Since it sucked magic power, the farther a person went through it, the worse injuries it caused.

If Laxus passed through completely, he'd probably be dead.

He stripped off a corner of his ruined shirt and pressed it to his nose, looking at Freed expectantly.

"Fuck, Laxus," Freed ground out.

"At least we know you won't lose limbs," Laxus shot back as Freed stripped his top half. "You need your fingers a hell of a lot more than I do."

Shaking his head, Freed read over the runes once more and pushed his arms through the barrier.

Searing pain passed over his skin like a knife fresh from the fire. He had to push through as far as his elbows to reach the enchantment, the barrier constricting as he tinkered and wrote.

It tightened slowly, cutting into him, like it was determined to sever his limbs from the rest of him if it took all night. Freed immersed himself in the runes in front of him, refusing to feel. The quicker he finished editing the enchantment, the sooner this would be over.

"Work faster," Laxus said, as if Freed would do anything else. But the words were full of worry.

After a couple more seconds, Freed had to pull back. His fingers were shaking too much and the pain had reached an intolerable threshold.

Just a short break, that was all. They had to find Ever and Bicks.

He could feel blood trickling down his elbows, but he chose not to look down.

"Don't you dare lose an arm, Freed," Laxus said. "That's an order."

Freed just focused on breathing. The pain wasn't  _that_  bad, he told himself; but it didn't stop him feeling dizzy. A few seconds' rest and he would finish. He was so close.

The language was entrancing—any other time he'd be enthralled.

With another inhale, he continued.

The pain was a hundred times worse, fire burning over already damaged skin. When the barrier reached his forearms, it seemed to slice to the bone, overtaking his senses and numbing his hands until every character took ages to write. Fuck, he just had a few more things to change. Why couldn't he get his hands to work?

"Freed!" Laxus commanded. "Stop now!"

Freed pulled one hand back, pain still driving into the other. At least he'd save one arm. Meanwhile, he just had two more characters. He focused on his fingers: over, down, up. The blood dripping off his skin tickled.

The world started spinning.

Why did every character ache through him? He was stronger than this: it was never this hard to write a simple sentence.

It was eating his magic power. Right.

_Focus._

He caught himself before he staggered sideways. Shaking fingers completed a final line just as the knives drove into his very nerves, separating him from himself, from his hand through which his magic flowed—

The pain ended in the blink of an eye.

Freed stumbled through the orange light and moved toward the runes enclosing his lightning mage. His brain was busy estimating how much blood he lost—he could feel it now, from both arms—but if he stopped to tend to wounds, he'd just lose more blood and time. He had to finish before shock set in, needing enough of a brain to focus since this wasn't simple magic. And they needed to get to Bickslow and Ever. He'd get Laxus out so Laxus could save them. Freed would just slow him down.

Dizziness made it hard to move the three meters to his destination. But he knew how to handle this: when dizzy, just keep walking. Just keep walking... No vomiting. He could do this.

"…beyond fucking reckless," Laxus growled. He sounded more venomous than Freed had heard from him in a long time. He was this pissed? About some enchantment? "Fucking bleeding everywhere…holy fuck…"

"Just a sec," Freed said, embarrassed at how breathy his voice sounded. Gods, he was better than this.

He couldn't get one of his arms to move. It was nothing but pain, refusing to follow his signals, like it wasn't there, or like it was dead. The other took forever to obey him, but finally he touched the runes and began to write.

It was easier the second time: he knew what to do, and he wasn't fighting for magic power while he did so. Sheer determination kept him on his feet, kept his fingers moving. He was vaguely aware of Laxus's eyes boring into him, but he didn't have time to offer reassurances. It was getting harder to focus. Had to focus.

"—There," Freed gasped.

Laxus rushed through, closing the distance between them. Confused at the expression on the Dragon Slayer's face, Freed didn't register he was falling until Laxus wrapped him in his arms.

"Thanks," he tried, but the word never came. Laxus lowered him to the ground still holding on tightly. Nothing was working anymore. He'd lost too much blood. Nor could he feel either of his hands, and that was far, far scarier.

Maybe he was doing worse than he thought.

Seeing anger in Laxus's face scared him. He didn't like seeing Laxus so upset, especially when the man was staring at him: it brought back painful memories.

But the arms holding Freed were solid just like he needed. Pressing his face into soft cloth, he let out a painful breath.  _Safe_. He needed help.

But he needed to get his legs moving. Shit. Ever and Bicks… They needed him. He had to stand up and make sense of his muscles.

That was when trembling took over.

The sounds and feelings around him overwhelmed him, too much light and noise. He couldn't see Laxus through the clamor in his brain. Couldn't feel Laxus... Couldn't tell if he was all alone.

_Don't leave me._

He had to wake up. Wake up! Laxus needed him awake. The other rune mage was still out th—

**Chapter 13: A Strange Place**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Laxus can think about is whether he'll have time to murder the woman while saving Freed…
> 
> Only 2 more chapters (to this part of the story). O.O


	13. A Strange Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed is injured, Laxus is worried, they're romantic, and smut happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been over a week. Here are TWO chapters to make up for it.

Freed woke up warm and comfortable, and he knew that was wrong, but he didn't care. It smelled nice and he didn't hurt—and he could tell that when he moved, things would start hurting. Currently he felt completely taken care of, and that was a feeling he didn't get often.

But he had people  _he_  needed to take care of. He couldn't be selfish. They needed him.

"Laxus?" he asked, eyes blinking open.

Someone inhaled and shifted beside him.

Freed's eyes traced the ceiling, trying to guess where he was from what little he could see. He remembered he'd gotten hurt, but this wasn't the infirmary, and it wasn't his house.

Taking the chance, he moved his head to the side (not too sore). Legs stretched across the floor beside Freed, who lay on a futon. Following them up, he found Laxus's orange eyes. The Dragon Slayer sat against the wall with arms crossed.

"Is everyone okay?" Freed asked, realizing getting up was going to take him some time.

"Yes," Laxus said, his voice a low rumble. "You are too, despite your efforts."

"Did you catch her?"

"Yeah. I got there just as she caught up with Ever and Bickslow. She didn't expect that."

"Good," Freed sighed.

"I would've gotten there sooner—" Laxus growled.

"I know. I'm so sorry I took so long."

"—if I hadn't had to carry you."

"Why didn't you leave me?" Freed exclaimed, gaping. Laxus was usually more practical. "You could've come back later."

"Freed, look."

Laxus pulled aside the corner of the comforter so Freed could look down. Bandages wrapped around his arms all the way to his fingertips.

"This is  _after_  Wendy Marvel healed you. You were bleeding everywhere, Freed. You almost sliced your arms off."

"That explains why my instinct is to not raise them," Freed chuckled, trying to make light since Laxus looked so serious. He wondered what his skin looked like underneath the white cloth.

"No kidding." Laxus pulled the blanket over him again, making a fuss of tucking him in. "Don't do that again, Freed. That was stupid."

Freed laughed weakly. "I've done stupider for you; you know that."

 _For you._  Laxus was the only reason Freed did dumb things. It was Freed's job as captain of the Raijinshuu to make reckless sacrifices for Laxus's sake.

And also he wanted to. Because he loved him.

"So…over four years?" Laxus shifted, staring down at his feet as he followed the same train of thoughts.

"Yeah." Freed's laugh died in his throat. This was more embarrassing than he expected.

"Back when we were just kids…"

"We're older than  _that._ "

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I know."

Freed sucked a breath. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say—whether to assure Laxus he'd had crushes on other people (however small) and wasn't a creeper, or to say the bigger truth: that he had always loved Laxus, always, ever since Freed was capable of loving him. Halfway through his fifteenth year, something had clicked for him regarding commitment, romance, and desire. There was no one else for him after that.

He wasn't sure how to explain that. He'd tried, of course, to fall for others. He'd slept with others, had relationships, dreamed of loving someone else, and probably would've one day. But he always came running when Laxus needed him. Always would. Nobody else could top that level of commitment, and Freed was smart enough not to try to make his relationships mean more than this one; it would've been a lie.

"We weren't teammates yet back then," Freed said. "But we still did plenty together. I never wanted my feelings to get in the way of our work relationship or our friendship. I knew you were straight—you made that pretty clear—so I just…"

Laxus shifted again; nodded.

"I think I knew but didn't want to know," he said.

Freed swallowed. "I'm n-not exactly subtle. Mira said I take care of you more than other people. M-More than the rest of the team."

"Why the stutter?" Laxus met his gaze, the side of his mouth tipping up.

Freed's heart pounded and he knew Laxus could hear it. Damn dragon.

"This is embarrassing," Freed grumbled.

With a pleasant rumble, Laxus slid down so he lay on his side next to the futon, head propped up on one elbow. Unsettled by this closeness, Freed blinked at him several times. Sure, Laxus had asked him out and they'd technically slept together twice, but that didn't mean he was used to the man he'd dreamed about for so long staring at him like he was the only person in the world.

"I've never wanted you to feel you owe me anything," Freed said. "That's another reason why I just…"

"Took care of me?"

"Yeah. I didn't—don't want you to do anything out of pity."

"Why on earth would I pity you?"

Freed shut his mouth.  _Because people aren't supposed to love like this. They're supposed to be selfish. They're supposed to be strong._

"Why did you bring me to your flat?" he asked, looking around at anything but those orange eyes.

"You don't remember anything from earlier, do you?" Laxus sighed. "Ever said you might not: you were really out of it. Once you were doing okay in the infirmary, you woke up for a bit and kept asking when you could leave. So I brought you here."

"I don't remember coming here."

"You were asleep again. Had to carry you."

"Oh." Heat rushed into his face. He'd been such a burden.

Laxus just rolled his eyes.

"Thank you," Freed murmured. Wishing he could reach out, he tilted his head toward the lightning mage instead. "For taking care of me."

"Of course." Laxus coughed. "Good thing you're not angry about it. You won't be moving much for a while."

"Shit." Being this injured was going to make life difficult.

"Does it hurt to move?"

The softness with which Laxus asked the question made Freed's breath catch in his throat. When Laxus stroked his cheek, Freed froze solid.

"Freed? You look shell-shocked," Laxus murmured with a note of uncertainty.

In reply, Freed went to place his hand over the Dragon Slayer's.

The jolt of movement sent splinters of pain shooting up his nerves.

Mouth opening in a silent cry, he tried to hold himself stiff and unmoving so nothing else would jostle. As his muscles tensed, pain throbbed through his arms, burrowing into him. Freed hissed and closed his eyes.

"That would be yes on the hurting." Voice suddenly very close, Laxus kissed Freed's forehead.

Focusing on relaxing each muscle, Freed found his warm proximity both help and hindrance. It distracted Freed from his pain but made it hard to relax. When Freed eventually succeeded, every centimeter of his body ached with exhaustion.

"I think I'm just going to lie here for a while," he joked weakly.

Laxus shifted onto the edge of the futon, body pressed against Freed's side. The lightning mage was careful not to bump Freed's arm as he pulled the comforter over both of them.

Gods, this was really happening. As his blood raced, Freed trembled.

The joy of finally having this, Laxus beside him, truly  _seeing_  Freed, was at war with the fear that this wasn't right. Laxus didn't love him; Laxus hated anything gay and any moment the fantasy would come crashing down and Laxus would shout and rage and—

But it didn't end. And it didn't end. And it didn't end.

Under Laxus's concerned gaze, Freed felt wanted in a way he never had before.

He wasn't sure why these tiny gestures had such an effect on him. He'd had Laxus's cock in his mouth, but lying in bed together fully clothed was a completely new level of intimacy.

Okay, not  _fully_  clothed: Freed was in his boxers. But one got the idea.

When Laxus curled his arms around him, Freed leaned his head against the Dragon Slayer's chest. Finally it was his turn to hear his beloved's steady heartbeat. The calm rhythm helped his own pulse slow, breaths growing heavy and body melting into the futon. Fighting to keep his eyes open, he heard Laxus chuckle.

"You can sleep," Laxus said. "It's allowed, Freed."

"I'm…" Freed yawned, "…rather surprised you haven't chewed me out for getting hurt."

"That'll come later. You have to feel better first."

"I don't  _have_  to do anything," Freed yawned. The air was warm and Laxus's embrace so easy to relax into.

"This time, you do. Besides, I think you'd  _want_  to feel better."

"I dunno…" Sleep was falling over him like a blanket. "It's kinda nice when someone else is the responsible one."

Laxus's quiet laugh chased him into dreams.

* * *

That warm body was still there when Freed woke up. It was like waking into a fantasy, Laxus pressed up against him in the golden light, arms encasing Freed.

He didn't want to move.

But Freed was a mix of contented and confused. Laxus was on the opposite side of him from before and the light in the room had changed significantly. His arms also felt much better.

He rolled and managed to maneuver into a sitting position without using his arms. When he leaned forward, Laxus's grip tightened around his waist, despite still sleeping. Freed had a feeling he wouldn't escape this embrace any time soon. That was okay: he didn't really want to.

With care, he unwrapped one of his bandages. His fingers were pink as if from an old burn, but the higher up his arm he went, the worse things got. Shiny burn scars turned into scabs which turned into deep cuts that were still seeping. Freed re-bandaged the skin, just leaving his fingertips free. When he went to bend his arms, he found the joints moved relatively pain-free as long as he didn't strain the muscles.

Laxus's face suddenly pressed against Freed's hip, muttering. Looking down, Freed saw him take a startled breath and blink awake with a jolt.

"What are you doing?" Laxus rumbled.

"Just stretching my fingers," Freed said. Laxus still looked concerned. "I feel much better."

"Good." Still frowning, Laxus ran a hand over his eyes and yawned. Shaking his head, he muttered, "I smelled something off."

"What kind of something?"

"Dream smell," Laxus said, pressing his face against Freed's side once more. "Probably."

"That's a thing?"

"Yes."

Freed trailed his liberated fingers over Laxus's hair. The action sent thrills up his spine.

"What were you dreaming?" he asked.

"Nothing," Laxus grumbled, blushing. "Thought I smelled you bleeding."

Still combing fingers through Laxus's hair, Freed smiled. So he'd smelled Freed unwinding the bandage, even in sleep.

They stayed that way for a while, Laxus's arm flung awkwardly around Freed's waist, Freed stretching his hands and inspecting the scars. The light in the room slowly grew. Was it morning? What time had he gone to sleep? His ignorance embarrassed him: he wasn't used to being the one out of the loop.

"How long was I out?" Freed asked.

"About twenty-nine hours."

Freed stuttered out a noise of shock. Laxus pulled away and stared at him.

"You needed it," he said.

"A whole day." Freed's eyes skittered about the room. "I've wasted so much time. Need to—"

"Get back here," Laxus interrupted, pulling Freed down to the futon.

Wrapping both arms around Freed, careful not to touch his bandages, Laxus fixed orange eyes on him. Freed was blushing, could feel the heat rising in his face, still not used to this: Laxus staring at him with such concentration, Laxus holding him, Laxus getting him turned on just with a look…

"Freed," Laxus whispered, closing the distance between them.

Freed surrendered, lips parting, and the Dragon Slayer kissed him.

Laxus was gentle and slow, tongue exploring, lingering, fascinated. He leaned on an elbow over Freed, hands not roaming, just kissing. Freed was so full, shivering with nervous joy. Lying back, he relaxed against Laxus's body, under his lips. Trusting.

Laxus's fingers on his cheek made his heart beat in his throat.

As long minutes built in intensity, Freed mouthed roughly and hungrily at him. Hot breath passed between them. Chuckling, Laxus slid a palm down Freed's chest, enjoying him at a languid pace. Taunting him. Caring for him. Laxus was soft, kind—Freed wanted to protect this part of him with everything he had.

He wanted to enjoy Laxus, too—Laxus was giving, offering, and Freed ached with wanting.

His fingers brushed over Laxus's shirt but were too stiff to undo the small buttons. At his grunt, Laxus stopped sucking on his lip.

"Want something?" Laxus asked, slipping his tongue sensually across Freed's mouth.

"Mm," was all the answer Freed was willing to grace him with.

"Moving a bit fast, aren't you?" Laxus murmured, grinning.

"That's not fair. I'm already shirtless."

"Fine point."

Laxus worked the buttons and slipped his shirt off. When he settled back down over Freed, he shifted so he lay between Freed's legs. The rune mage touched Laxus's chest, unable to hold back a smile. He would never get tired of the exhilaration of feeling Laxus's skin.

Fingers ran through his long hair and he closed his eyes, enjoying how much the touch relaxed him. Warm breath preceded lips on his forehead. Laxus kissed across his face and sucked under his jaw. Heat burned in Freed's body, and when Laxus nipped his ear, he jolted.

Pulling back for a second, Laxus tried biting him again and Freed groaned. His pulse sped into overdrive as chills ran over his skin.

With a hum, Laxus nosed down his neck and bit the base of his throat. When his tongue slid over Freed's pulse, Freed's hands shook, caressing Laxus's face.

"I love this."

"Which part?" Laxus asked cheekily.

"You. Your body. All of it."

Freed's breath was heavy from the continued touches on his neck and collarbone. He was also harder than rock. Everything was exciting. Hand still on Laxus's face, Freed traced the roughness of his scar from end to end.

"I always loved your scar."

"Really?" Laxus looked up, surprise in his eyes.

"Yeah." Freed smiled.

After blinking several times, Laxus swept him into a deep and sudden kiss.

When Laxus shifted down to kiss Freed's chest, his abdomen rubbed over Freed's erection. Freed gasped but Laxus made no move to show he'd noticed. Instead, he nibbled and sucked his way over Freed's abs, licking the lines of his muscles, which tickled the rune mage into laughing. Grinning, Laxus met his eyes before biting Freed's pec.

"Oh fuck!" Freed shouted, eyes wide. He tensed as pleasure, hot and thick, rode through his veins. The sensation reduced him to a shaking mess. Fuck. Every part of him belonged to Laxus.

Laxus sucked on his neck before biting down on Freed's throat again. The Dragon Slayer's grip tightened, sharp teeth digging in, and it stole Freed's breath and the word he'd been about to cry out:  _Laxus…!_

Now Laxus's hands were roving, meandering over Freed's chest, flicking over every sensitive spot on his over-stimulated skin. Freed was so hard it hurt, but he wasn't complaining: every touch was its own slow moment of pleasure. He shut his eyes again, focusing on feel alone, from the moving tension in Laxus's arms as he shifted his weight to the tongue scraping over his nipple and sending shivers up his spine.

It seemed to stretch on forever. Their bodies blended into each other, one creature feeling and being felt.

Laxus's lips drew lower on Freed's abdomen. Hooking fingers in the waistband of Freed's boxers, Laxus pulled them down with infinite slowness, kissing every centimeter of pale skin. Freed watched that golden head as it moved down, until Laxus's mouth was at the base of his cock—

Freed's fingers were digging hard into Laxus's shoulders. Self-control was nowhere to be found, and if Laxus kept going, Freed was going to blow before Laxus got his shorts all the way off. It was all so new, overwhelming. They'd had sex together, but it wasn't the same. This time, Laxus knew who he was seducing.

This time, every gesture was meant specially for Freed.

"Laxus," he breathed.

The lightning mage spoke for the first time in ages, voice gruff. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Freed whispered.

The pressure building up in his cock pushed tears to his eyes, whole body trembling with adrenaline and desire, needing Laxus. His Laxus.

"Do whatever you want with me," Freed panted.

Laxus lifted his head to meet Freed's gaze, his eyebrows raised. Mischief played in those eyes, an expression Freed had never seen on him before: Laxus looking playful. Laxus was  _enjoying_  this. Enjoying touching every part of Freed…while all Freed could do was whimper and wrap scarred hands around him. Freed had hardly touched him, but Laxus was clearly turned on by the sight of Freed laid out beneath him—Laxus's erection rubbed over his leg for a moment, and Freed moaned.

He couldn't take much more without his heart giving out in sheer joy.

With a growl, Laxus pulled Freed's boxers off, leaving him naked, and raked his gaze over Freed's body. Stare hungry, he gulped, making Freed's pulse speed up even more.

"I want to do everything to you," Laxus muttered, leaning up to kiss Freed's lips. Freed tried to keep him there, but Laxus lowered back down over his body, mouthing softly at every muscle as he slid lower.

"Oh gods, Laxus, I really, I can't, L-Laxus…"

Freed was too overcome to make sense.

Laxus hummed, smiling. Then his breath brushed over Freed's cock and Freed stiffened with a groan. Lips touched him for a half second. Freed swallowed down a shout.  _Fuck._  He needed more. He was too fucking hard, every desire throbbing through him in painful pleasure.

"Please," he gasped, and Laxus's tongue slid up his cock. Freed couldn't stop the cry this time.  _"Fuck me! Laxus!"_

But Laxus moved down again, the contact too brief, not enough: Freed needed more, everything. Then Laxus was lapping at his balls and he fell apart, toes curling into the futon.

"You like that?" Laxus asked, grinning. "Your groans are pretty impressive."

"Sh-shut up, you're amazing…"

When the Dragon Slayer licked lower, Freed's thighs tensed. Gods, he had no idea what Laxus was planning to do, but it was incredible, every minute of it, every touch on his Laxus-tuned body. Every part of him had been waiting for Laxus to do this, touch him,  _need_  him. Now that it was real…Freed was filled. So fucking full.

Laxus's tongue crept down his ass, circling the muscles, sliding over places no mouth had ever touched before.

"Oh gods! How…?"

How could Laxus want this? Rimming him, and Freed wasn't even certain everything was clean. He'd never done this with someone before, and he was (as Mira often pointed out) gay as hell. But that warm tongue kept probing him, hands on his thighs gently holding him open so Laxus could have everything.

Anything he wanted. Freed was all his.

And gods did Freed's body know that. As his cock spasmed and heat coiled in his gut, he arched up, fingers knotted in the comforter and the sting in his arms forgotten. He was a bomb waiting to blow, an explosion Laxus merely had to set a match to. And he was striking that match over and over…

A slick finger entered Freed, tongue still working over him. Filled, Freed relaxed onto that hand with a long growl. Another finger joined the first and he squirmed, not in discomfort, but because he wanted more.

He was so ready. After all this touching, he was so, so ready. He was so loose Laxus could've fucked him with no more preparation. Instead, Laxus nuzzled past his balls and licked up his cock in long strokes. Those moving fingers hit something beautiful and Freed bent backwards.

"L-Laxus—!"

The lightning mage pulled away immediately. The sudden loss was so acute, orgasm only a touch away, that Freed almost wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Almost.

But he couldn't hold onto any regret when Laxus stripped and crouched naked over him.

Laxus's cock twitched. The sight made Freed's body tense in desire.  _Please, please, please._

"I want to make you feel the best you've ever felt," Laxus said.

Staring into his eyes, Freed let out a noise of disbelief. Laxus was already doing that. He didn't understand: Freed was already in fucking heaven.

_Take whatever you want from me, I'm already sated, I will come just from you touching me, I want to give you whatever you want, whatever you need, anytime, always, please._

Pent-up desire ran laps around his brain.

Laxus acquired lube from somewhere next to the futon and reached over to pick up a condom.

"I'm clean," Freed burst out. "Just saying. If you are—if you want to—if…"

Laxus's orange eyes glowed.

"You want that?"

Freed nodded, eager.

Laxus lubed his bare cock, fingers moving sensually like he knew Freed was watching his every gesture. Hell, he could probably hear Freed's heart crashing into his ribs.

When he leaned back down over the rune mage, Laxus took a deep breath and looked into Freed's eyes.

"May I…?" Laxus asked. Freed went to answer, but Laxus finished, "make love to you?"

Freed's mouth went dry.  _Love. Make love._

"Gods yes," he stuttered. "Aren't you doing that already?"

Seeing Laxus grin, Freed wrapped his hands around the Dragon Slayer's neck and pulled him closer.

"Come inside me," he whispered.

Eyes falling shut, Laxus shuddered. Fuck, he was just as far gone as Freed was.  _Fuck_. Freed wanted him  _right now_.

Laxus entered Freed slowly, guiding himself in with his hand, careful and precise. His arm shook next to Freed's shoulders, and Freed lifted his hands to rub across Laxus's chest. His injured arms lacked the strength to help hold his lover up, but he could still please him with touches. He found Laxus's nipples and twisted. A shiver ran through the Dragon Slayer.

At last Laxus pushed himself in all the way and Freed gasped.

"Fuck," he moaned: Laxus connected into his very being.

"Does it hurt—?"

"No, and please keep going, please, Laxus…" Freed tensed around his cock, making Laxus grimace with pleasure. "I need you."

"I'm right here."

The words flew past Freed's ear with a gust of hot breath. Then Laxus's lips found his, the Dragon Slayer's hips moved, and Freed melted.

It was a beautiful affair. Laxus's slow, regular movements brought them together, and Freed's hands held on. Freed grunted with every thrust, and Laxus did too, their sounds mingling and filling the air.

Freed was content in this moment—on being here, with Laxus,  _together_ , so much together. When his muscles knotted up, curling desire in Freed's gut hit an unbearable peak and his body spasmed. He threw back his head in utter abandon and let the pleasure roll through him.

"Laxus, I l-lo— Laxus!"

It rocketed up his spine, boiling over, filling him to the brim. Freed shouted and gripped Laxus desperately, the pleasure crashing over him with the power of a waterfall. His whole body tensed to the limit and he was lost, lost: loving, wanting, owning. Slipping under the current and carried away.

"L-Laxus…"

"Fuck, goddamn," Laxus hissed, his cock throbbing tangibly in the pressure of Freed's body. "I can't—fuck, Freed…"

Just like that he was coming, hips slamming into him, suddenly rough. Laxus's eyes shut tight, teeth grit and scar standing out against his flushed skin. His movements became shuddery and harsh as he thrust in several more times, body trembling in time with Freed's own. He looked utterly devastating.

"Beautiful," Freed whispered, hand in Laxus's hair with his palm against the Dragon Slayer's cheek. "You're beautiful."

"You're too goddamn good," Laxus breathed, panting down from his high. "I didn't intend on finishing yet, but you're too fucking amazing. I can't hold out when you say my name like that."

"I'm that happy," Freed shrugged, smiling.

"And still hard." Laxus stroked him with a finger and Freed groaned.

"Doesn't really matter," Freed panted, though his whole body focused on the finger on his cock. "Dry orgasm is just as good. I personally think it's better."

He shot Laxus a grin.

"Let's test that theory," Laxus said, sliding down, his body rubbing over Freed's. "I'm not leaving my lover uncared for."

With a sly smile, he lowered himself between Freed's legs and sucked his cock into his mouth.

"Nnn! Holy— Laxus!"

Freed tipped his head back. It was so warm and wet, that perfect pressure, begging him to let go. And Laxus thought  _he_  unleashed too early.

Laxus tongued up and down Freed's cock. This was  _Laxus Dreyar_  blowing him, Laxus's mouth on him, almost worshipful. Laxus kept trying new movements, speeding up when Freed groaned before switching things up again. It was heavenly and glorious, Freed wholly intent on every sensation, never knowing what would come next.

Freed realized this was Laxus's first time sucking a man off—his first time with a cock under his lips. Gods.  _Holy gods_.

The Dragon Slayer increased the pressure, pressing Freed's dick to the roof of his mouth as he slid over him. When Laxus went down so far Freed touched the back of his throat, his back arched. Laxus's hand slid up his thigh to hold him in place.

"Oh, gods," Freed gasped, "please…"

* * *

Freed was clearly on the edge. Speeding up his movements, Laxus took him deep over and over, Freed's voice rising with every gasp. Laxus's throat started to hurt, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do this much longer without choking, but he kept it up as long as he could, hand fisting the base of Freed's cock.

As Laxus's senses filled with a new scent—light, salty, but also completely right: so very Freed—he had to pull away to catch his breath. Jerking his fingers up and down, he grinned up at Freed, whose eyes were wide with pleasure, expression solemn and overcome. Laxus squeezed as he pulled at Freed's cock, and the increased pressure had Freed's eyes falling shut and that wonderful scent nearly bowling Laxus over as it filled the room.

With a jerk, Freed came in Laxus's fingers with a drawn-out moan. Laxus felt like he could float up to the ceiling watching those beautiful expressions cross Freed's face.

Laxus caressed Freed's balls and traced his tongue over his abdomen until Freed's shuddering stopped.

"I can't believe you," Freed said, breathing hard. "You're amazing."

Lips breaking into a smile, Laxus slid up the futon so he could lie next to the man who'd so captured his attention. As he inhaled, Freed suddenly zeroed in on his face with a concerned expression.

"Oh shit, your senses. Was that…too strong?"

Laxus snorted before realizing the rune mage was serious.

"Freed," he said, "I don't think you realize how much your various scents and flavors affect me. It doesn't matter how strong it is: it's  _you_. You could be sweaty, dirty, and disgusting, and I'd still be all over you. I  _want_  to smell you." He kissed Freed's lips. "And swallow you." He kissed him again. "I want everything."

"O-Oh." Freed blushed, clearly trying to hide how pleased he was.

Laxus stared down at Freed: green hair splayed around him, bright eyes which captured everything, sharp chin that made Freed so delectable for kissing.

"You're so pretty," Laxus murmured, flushing.

Freed barked a laugh. "Did you say  _pretty_?"

"You are." He let his gaze roam. Freed's hard, incredible body… "It's kind of evil of you."

"Maybe I like being evil," Freed grinned.

"I've…never called anyone that before," the Dragon Slayer muttered, half-hoping Freed wouldn't hear.

The rune mage's smile faltered. "Pretty?"

"That's why I'm saying it now."

Freed swallowed. His wide-eyed shock made Laxus's heart light. This man. Always interested in Laxus for some reason, unaware he was an amazing specimen himself.

Laxus didn't really deserve Freed. Not at all. That didn't mean he was letting him go.

Not at all.

* * *

Laxus fiddled with a lock of Freed's hair, not meeting his eyes for a few seconds.

"Freed, I…"

Laxus closed his eyes, fidgety, shaky.

Suddenly Freed knew. Knew what words Laxus was trying to get out. Freed's stomach dropped out of him.

"I'm in love with you," the Dragon Slayer said.

It hit him like a freight train. Freed lost the ability to speak. His heart was soaring somewhere only stars could see. Laxus…

"I'm in love with you, Freed," Laxus repeated, orange eyes pinning him. "I love you."

Freed pulled him into a passionate kiss, tongues tangling in their scramble to be part of each other.

Chest tight, Freed relinquished him and managed, "I love you too. You know that. Laxus."

Oh gods, Laxus's eyes were sparkling, wet at the corners. Awe froze Freed in place at seeing his Lightning Dragon fighting back so much emotion. It was one of those moments Laxus didn't share with anyone: a vulnerability he'd usually lock inside himself, but he was welcoming Freed into it. Into this part of his soul.

Gaze still fixed on Laxus, Freed ran the back of his fingers over the scarred cheek, marveling at the feel of Laxus's skin and the way Laxus leaned into him. When he rubbed his thumb over that beloved scar, the vulnerable need in Laxus's eyes was so clear.

Freed had never felt so vital to someone before.

"Is this real?" Freed asked softly.

Laxus's expression sparked with fear, as though the same doubt had plagued him.

"It is," Freed assured him, grinning.

Laxus rested his forehead on Freed's and exhaled against his mouth.

"It better be. I couldn't stand if it wasn't."

Those were the best words Freed had ever heard.

**Chapter 14: Public Humiliation**


	14. Public Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guild finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who read _The Love of Rivals_ & _Overcome_ may remember Laxus revealing Natsu  & Gray's secret relationship (Overcome chapters 30, 32-33)… Natsu clearly learned nothing.

When Freed finally returned to the guild, he and Laxus didn't get rid of scents.

And gods, they had to be strong, because Laxus finger-fucked Freed that morning and Freed replied by sucking him off. Freed imagined they reeked of every single act they'd done together. But Laxus didn't even mention washing it off.

They didn't look particularly put-together either (which for Freed was the larger sin). While Freed was healing well, he still had bandages on his arms which prevented him from wearing his normal attire. With coat thrown over his shoulders, he attempted to hide as much as possible: in the gap between his sleeveless shirt and arms-length bandages, purple bruises were visible.

Seeing them always made Laxus frown. Freed hated it.

A few meters from the entrance to Fairy Tail, the doors swung open and Evergreen mobbed them.

"Missed you," she said, arms around Freed's neck—as if she hadn't visited him every day.

But it felt good to be back.

"Where's Bickslow?" Freed asked, fretting out of habit.

"He's helping someone with a job," she replied. "I didn't catch who because he was acting cagey. Laxus, when he returns you have to smell him for us: I think he has a crush on someone."

Laxus grunted.

"Let's not stand out here," Ever chided, drawing them toward the doors.

"You should probably sit down, Freed," Laxus said.

Ever's eyes narrowed. "Yes, you should. Gods, you almost died."

"I didn't almost die," Freed snorted.

"I was  _there_ ," Ever protested. "So was Laxus."

"So was I," Freed pointed out.

"Yeah:  _unconscious_ ," Laxus said.

"Why are you taking her side?" When Freed mock-pouted in disdain, Laxus stuck his tongue out in imitation of Bickslow.

His two teammates pushed open the doors before Freed could reach for them—he said nothing, grateful, since that was one thing he would've struggled to do. But if they tried to pull out his chair, he'd duel somebody.

Two steps into Fairy Tail, they heard a whistle.

Laxus and Freed both whipped around, Freed confused. It was easy to spot the culprit: he was staring at them and grinning wide.

"Damn!" Natsu called over—which, since he was a noisy bastard in general, was an all-encompassing shout.

"What," Laxus growled, and it was  _not_  a question.

"Whoa." Gajeel, on the opposite side of the hall. "No kidding. Damn."

The feral look in Laxus's eyes increased as he looked back and forth between them. Freed tensed, unsure how he could possibly alleviate the situation. He knew now what they were reacting to. Of course he did. And his arms were fucking out of commission and the only weapon he had right now was his words.

More and more people in the hall looked their way. Gods dammit, why did it have to be everyone at once?

"Calm down." Freed zeroed in on Natsu. "Are you that bored?"

"But Freed." Natsu still wore a broad smile. "I mean,  _damn_. Seriously."

Blushing, Freed glanced up at Laxus, almost afraid what expression he'd see.

There was nothing in Laxus's eyes. Nothing on his face. Shoulders bunched, Laxus leaned forward slightly, weight on his toes—to attack, or maybe to run.

"Natsu-san!"

The screech silenced the entire guildhall.

"Natsu-san and Gajeel-san!" Wendy strode forward like a small tornado. She stopped midway across the hall—exactly between the three male Dragon Slayers, Freed realized.

She didn't say anything else, looking from Natsu (who made a face) to Gajeel (who looked down) to Laxus (who took a deep breath).

Wendy strode toward the lightning tribe as if she'd already forgotten whatever just happened. Hair flying, she marched up to Freed and said, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Freed had never fought so hard not to gape.

"Thank you," he managed.

She returned to her table.

Conversation in the hall ramped back up and Freed, Ever, and a stony-faced Laxus headed to the bar. Whatever the  _hell_  just happened was clearly a Dragon Slayer thing, and curious as Freed was, he wouldn't get answers right now. Not while Laxus looked like  _that_. He was giving a good imitation of a locked box, and in terms of keeping things in, Laxus might give the locked box a run for its money.

The best thing Freed could do for his beloved right now was draw attention away from him, so he looked around for his best friend: he could always count on Mira for cheerful noisiness.

But the two ladies behind the bar weren't Strausses.

"Where's Mira?" Freed asked, surprised to see Lucy—and much less surprised to see Cana.

"She's running an errand and Lisanna is on a job," Lucy rattled off. Across the hall, the clamor of a fight started up. "Want anything?"

"Freed can't," Ever said, "not while he's healing. And I'm fine. But," she glanced over her shoulder at Laxus, "he would love…let's see, a scotch."

The lightning dragon blinked in surprise when Ever handed him the drink. Ever and Freed glanced at each other and laughed.

"You have That Look on your face," Ever said. "When you have That Look, you always get scotch. You're welcome."

"I've always thought scotch the best flavor for mulling over things," Lucy said, leaning on the bar.

Laxus shrugged.

"Scotch calms him," Freed explained, then blushed for knowing that. He'd always known these things. He was that person: the one who knew everything about his crush. Except it wasn't from being creepy; they'd just known each other that long.

And Freed had taken care of him for that long.

Laxus's lips tipped up around his glass and he moved closer to Freed, elbows nudging.

The guildhall exploded.

Fire was everywhere and for one terrifying second Freed was frozen, his arms trapped in an orange barrier that sucked all his magic and left him unable to protect Laxus—

When Laxus's thick arms wrapped around him, Freed relaxed. The embrace centered him: Laxus wasn't imprisoned and Freed's arms were doing much better. This was the hall of Fairy Tail, this destruction was usual, and these flames, which were probably Dragneel's, merely made everyone sweaty.

Sliding out of Laxus's grip as the fire dissipated, Freed looked around for the source of the fight.

Sure enough, Natsu and Gajeel were facing off. But as Freed looked, he found the Salamander's delighted eyes trained on Laxus.

"Hah!" Natsu shouted, pointing. "Did you see that? Gray, you owe me a thousand Jewels!"

"I never bet anything!" Gray yelled back, despite only sitting meters from his boyfriend. "I  _agreed_  with you."

"I didn't say anything this time," Gajeel bellowed, also staring at Laxus and smiling. "Squirt can't get angry at me."

Why the fuck did they all think shouting was required?

When Laxus took a step, Freed saw it in a flash: the intention, protectiveness, Laxus running over to pound the shit out of the other three. Freed reacted out of his own protective instincts.

Stepping in front of Laxus before the man could move, Freed glared the other three down. He made a low gesture with his hand to tell Laxus not to try anything and lost his coat in the process. Dammit, there were those big, dark bruises, visible to the world.

"What's your problem?" he shouted at Natsu. If he was going to stop this, the immature fireball had to be stopped first.

Before anyone could say anything, a different shout resounded.

"Natsu!" Wendy looked furious. She'd left off the -san.

"I didn't out them," the Salamander protested. "They outed themselves. Besides, Freed's  _always_  been out."

"You're a disgrace to draconic culture."

"I never cared what culture thought," Natsu retorted, defensive.

"Outed…" This from Erza. "Who got outed?"

"Oh my god!" Cana exclaimed. "You guys are together?"

Freed still had his arm out as if he could protect his Dragon Slayer, backing up another step until his back hit Laxus's warm solidity. He knew they shouldn't touch each other—that made it more obvious—but another more immediate part of him was dizzy and light.

"You mean greenie and the big lump?" Gajeel answered Cana, full of taunting pride. "Of course they're together. Why else would they smell like that?"

When Gajeel leered, Freed lost it. He lunged.

Laxus grabbed him around the waist, and it was good thing, too, because Freed stumbled, head swirling, and went down on one knee. Colors danced across his vision. Shit.

Maybe not so healed.

People still spoke loudly over them, all of Fairy Tail joining the conversation:  _Laxus and Freed, they're pretty obvious, why didn't we guess sooner._  Dropping his arms, Freed waited for sensations to return. He'd almost fainted: he couldn't be more upset with himself.

Behind his head, Laxus's voice addressed someone near at hand: "Yeah. Maybe. So what?"

Freed shook his head.

Laxus was going to be so pissed about this later. Stupid, stupid guildmates. Family could be a real dick sometimes.

But the Dragon Slayer's hands spread over his hips and held him firm, and for now, Freed let himself relax. Laxus's fingers at his waist was a small, subtle, heart-warming thing. Something public. Thrills ran through Freed's chest and he took an overworked breath.

"You need to rest," Laxus said in his ear.

"I'm fine," Freed insisted.

A low growl, and then Freed heard: "Ever, help me."

Before Freed could escape, Ever grabbed his hands, Laxus crowded him from behind, and there was nothing Freed could do but follow them to the doors.

When they neared the exit, Freed slipped from their grasp. Natsu looked up with curiosity as Freed stopped at his table.

Freed punched him in the mouth.

Natsu crashed backward into his boyfriend. Hands quickly restrained Freed—big, familiar hands—but the rune mage was done.

"Someone needed to," he said, glaring at Gray, who had opened his mouth angrily.

Freed let his teammates lead him out.

Once in the street, Freed yelled, "Fuck!"

Ever startled so hard she left the pavement, Laxus tripping sideways.

"Gods dammit, Freed," he said. "What was that for?"

Shaking out his fist, Freed hissed, "That fucking hurt."

When he glanced over, Ever was gaping.

"Freed just said 'fuck' in two consecutive sentences in public," she told Laxus. "Take him home right now."

"I'm not dizzy anymore," Freed lied. "And you both know he had it coming."

"Not arguing that." Ever smirked. "That'll be guild gossip for the next few years. It was a pretty spectacular punch."

"Good." Freed rubbed his knuckles and smiled at her.

"Home," Laxus said gruffly, but softened as he caught Freed's injured hand and caressed the knuckles. Freed just rolled his eyes, grinning.

"Get moving, Big Lump."

"You're not the boss of me,  _Greenie_."

"Boyfriend privileges," Freed said.

To his surprise, Laxus hummed happily and kissed his forehead.

The Dragon Slayer looked at Ever.

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything. It's Bickslow you'll have to worry about. He loves telling people's romantic stories."

"Like how I almost died after we got together? Oh yes, very romantic," Freed snorted.

"Like how Laxus almost had a panic attack watching you bleed everywhere while Wendy healed you," Ever said seriously. "He filled the infirmary with static. Mira tried to give him something to calm down, but he refused until she put a knife to your arm and started cutting you back open."

"Mira cut me?" Freed asked in surprise.

"Illusion magic," Laxus grumbled. "But I just about took her head off."

"Thank you for not. She's a dear friend of mine."

"I didn't want you getting caught in any crossfire," Laxus muttered.

"So he finally sat down and took his medicine," Ever said. "See? That's a romantic story."

"If overprotectiveness is romance, I've been doing it wrong," Freed snorted.

"Come on, don't be hard on him." Evergreen smiled. "People do dumb things when they panic. Especially if they've never had a panic attack before."

Freed glanced at Laxus. "I guess I'm your first."

"Ha ha." Laxus's cheeks reddened. "I'd appreciate that being my last, if you don't mind."

"Speaking of firsts, this came for you in the guild mail." Ever handed Laxus a thick, colorful envelope.

He read the seal. "From the First Order of the… Wait, really?"

The Dragon Slayer halted and ripped it open. Freed and Ever waited while his eyes tracked down the page.

"Huh."

"Is that from the magic prison?" Freed asked, recognizing the seal.

"They finished questioning my father and moved him to a permanent cell. He can have visitors."

Freed exchanged a look with Ever.

"Are you going to?" Ever asked.

"I don't know."

The three began walking again in silence, until Laxus let out a little chuckle.

"I can't believe you hit Dragneel, Freed."

"I have no regrets."

"Someone always gets beat up when a Dragon Slayer starts dating," Ever said. "Whose turn will it be when Wendy hits that age?"

"She's different." Laxus cracked his knuckles. " _Nobody_  will out her relationship: nobody messes with a woman. If anyone tries, they'll be dead."

"At six Dragon Slayers' hands," Freed laughed.

"Yeah," Laxus chuckled. "Probably."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. ^^ Please leave a comment if you enjoyed. It's hard posting sometimes, and I love hearing from you.
> 
> PART II will be going up soon! (Work is a bitch rn, please be patient with me.) I wanted a HFN with Laxus overcoming self-loathing, without Ivan-resolution yet because **you don't have to face your abuser to move on.**
> 
> But for Laxus, things will continue in Part II, when he and Freed face his father.
> 
> * * *
> 
> _**Preview of Part II:** _
> 
> _As if someone cut his strings, Laxus collapsed onto the floor._
> 
> _"Laxus!" Freed shook the massive shoulder as he crouched over him. In the sudden silence, he rolled Laxus onto his back and touched the Dragon Slayer's face._
> 
> _Laxus's eyelids didn't even flutter. He didn't look unconscious: he looked dead._
> 
> _It couldn't be Ivan: it couldn't be. Ivan didn't have magic, this shouldn't be possible, it didn't make sense—_
> 
> _"No, no, no…" Freed gasped, filling the air with sound. If he filled the space with noise, he wouldn't have to face his panic. ___


	15. (Omake) Pranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed and Laxus get Gray and Natsu back for outing them with a dastardly prank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't fit with Part II, so it's going here as omake. ^^ (It correlates to the previous chapter.) I'll update the Part II fic soon!
> 
>  _Announcement:_ two days from now, August begins, and with it, **Nonbinary Month.** Throughout the month, I'll be posting fics with nonbinary and trans characters. Feel free to join in or just check it out: I'll be creating an open collection on Aug 1.

"You know," Freed said, readjusting against Laxus's shoulder, "Gray told me he and Natsu retaliated against you."

"Hm?" Laxus looked up from the book he was reading.

Freed grinned. "See, now  _you're_  distracted."

"It's good stuff; very consuming," Laxus protested, though he closed the book, keeping a finger between the pages. He'd teased Freed about getting lost in books many times.

They were seated together in Laxus's flat, both reading. Since Freed's healing arms made him dependent on others, they had temporarily moved Freed in, and this meant more books everywhere, a fact Laxus was clearly pleased with.

Today reading accompanied cuddling, Freed leaning into Laxus's embrace with the Dragon Slayer's arm around his waist. This way Laxus could swat him every time he scratched errantly at his bandages. It had been two weeks and still the cuts seeped blood, though they grew shallower by the day. Porlyusica said some of the woman's magic had gotten into the wounds, slowing his healing—and it would've taken a while anyway because Freed really had come close to losing both arms. Not to mention his life. Laxus didn't talk about that part, and Freed took the hint and didn't bring it up either.

"Remember when you outed Gray and Natsu's relationship?" Freed asked.

"That was  _not_  on purpose."

"I know, I know. But Gray told me he and Natsu got back at you by letting the whole guild know about your motion sickness."

"Yes," Laxus groaned. "Assholes. Dragneel did it all innocently. Someone brought up his and he said, 'It's normal: even Laxus gets that way.' Suddenly everyone was looking at me. I couldn't exactly lie to the whole fucking guild. He and Gray gave me the most victorious fucking smiles."

Freed chuckled.

"Despite how furious  _he_  was to be outed, Natsu did the same thing to our relationship," Freed said. "So I think it'd be worth pranking him in return. Turnabout is fair play."

Putting his book down fully, Laxus turned to grin at him.

"I take it you have a plan?"

"Of course. It has to do with Dragon Slayer appetites."

"I'm listening," Laxus said eagerly. "Although you are not allowed to do anything strenuous in this plan. You're the thinker.  _I'll_  put it into action."

Freed scowled. Laxus gave him The Look.

"Fine, I promise," Freed said. "But just for that, I'm not telling you this plan unless you make us lunch. Since I'm such a helpless invalid."

Laxus laughed and stretched. "Sure. Any requests?"

* * *

"Three queens," Freed said victoriously, laying down his cards. "Goddess, you all had bad hands."

Cana stuck her tongue out and turned to Laxus.

"He always fucking wins. We need to team up."

"Is there a way to team up in poker?" Bickslow asked.

"Three to one? Absolutely. We can make a way. I'll beat you, Justine, even if I have to cheat." Cana gave Freed an evil grin.

"Bring it on," he laughed. "I swear to you, this is just luck."

Beside him, Laxus snorted and began shuffling cards.

Opening his mouth, Freed had just started to protest when Laxus said in a low voice, "I smell him. Bar."

Freed snatched up a spoon and used it as a mirror to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, Natsu Dragneel had just marched up and was ordering food from Mira.

"Oo," Bickslow said, eyes alight. "Does this have to do with the fire you've been carrying around?"

Laxus made a hushing gesture.

"We'll explain later," he muttered. "Ears."

"Fine." Bickslow hunkered down to watch the bar over Laxus's shoulder.

Cana stared back and forth between them all.

"What? What have you been doing?"

"A prank," Freed cut in. "You'll see."

"Who all is in on it?" Cana asked, eyes scanning the bar to guess whom Freed had been peeking at.

"Us two and Mira. We needed her cooperation."

The game forgotten, Laxus put down the cards and the four of them contented themselves with picking at their food. (Freed was disappointed he couldn't have alcohol: Laxus gave him a disapproving look if he broke Porlyusica's strictures.)

"There," he said, still using a spoon as a mirror. "She just gave him his dinner."

There was no attempt at subtlety now (Natsu noticed nothing when food appeared before him): they turned bodily in their seats and watched him take the fire and inhale…

Natsu coughed, spewing flames and smoke.

"Gods! Mira! What's wrong with the fire?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't…" Natsu tried to take another bite, to the same results. "Where did you get this?"

Mira shrugged in confused innocence. "It's what was burning in the stove."

"It's mine."

"Oh." Mira's eyes widened. "Maybe you're the one who lit the stove last?"

"I don't go in the kitchen anymore," Natsu said, in a surprisingly penitent voice. "Ever since the explosion, I've been good."

"My budget for dishes thanks you," Mira said in exasperation.

Glancing at each other in surprise, the watchers at the table all suppressed laughter behind their hands, Freed most of all.

"She does have a crockery budget," he whispered between laughs. "She just said they kept breaking. I didn't realize…"

He broke into laughter again.

"So where'd it come from?" Natsu had gone back to a raised voice and sizzling frustration.

"I don't know, Natsu. I'm sorry," Mira told him.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter."

Natsu walked over to a torch and inhaled.

"Fuck!" he shouted between coughs, drawing the attention of Happy, who fluttered over. "This one too! I didn't light this!"

Natsu walked to the next torch, and the next, sniffing at candles, at the flames in the fireplace. There was a lot of fire around: it was a brisk evening. It took him a while, but he made a circuit of the whole room, every time ending in coughs and hacking.

Just as he finished, his boyfriend entered the guild.

"Gray!" Natsu shouted, running over and grabbing his shirt. Gray took a startled step back. "Something's happened. I can't eat fire!"

"What?"

"I don't know what it is, but I've tried every flame in the hall and I can't eat  _any_  of them. I know I didn't light these. And I'm starving," he added. And it was true—his stomach could be heard even by the watchers at the table.

"Calm down," Gray said, disengaging Natsu's fists from his shirt, which he promptly lost. "You ate fire just this morning. Did you do anything weird since then?"

"No."

"Eat anything funny?"

"No."

"Use an excessive amount of magic? Black out and light everything on fire while you were unconscious? Piss anyone off?"

"Gray, stop blaming the victim!"

"We're all going to be victims if you don't control your heat."

"Sorry." Natsu simmered down a bit, the red glow disappearing from his hair. "I've never… _not_  eaten fire."

"As a baby," Gray pointed out.

"I can't remember that far back."

Gray rolled his eyes and Natsu stuck his tongue out.

Freed smiled watching this, at both the success of the prank and the affectionate familiarity of their interactions.

"So where'd you get it?" Cana asked in a whisper.

"Get what?" Freed asked.

"His fire, obviously."

"Natsu leaves bits of his fire everywhere," Laxus rumbled. "Leaves shit smoldering all the time. It was easy to capture some and nurse the flame bigger."

"And eventually light everything in the entire hall with it?"

"Exactly," Laxus said. "It's all from the same source: his magic. Ergo..."

Cana nodded, grinning.

"So when will you let up?"

"In a little while," Freed said. He pulled a box of matches out of his pocket and tossed them on the table. "When he's freaked out for a bit longer."

"Freed, you are one son of a bitch," Cana said. "Remind me never to prank you."

"Why are you praising  _him?_ " Laxus asked, affronted.

"Because you are neither this clever, this dastardly, nor this mean," Cana said. "I know this is all Freed's handiwork."

"I'm not sure whether to take offense at that or not," Freed said.

"Take offense all you like. Until your arms heal, I can say shit to you without repercussions."

Freed raised an eyebrow. "I can still use my magic, you know."

"I still love you," Cana said sweetly.

"You're fucking incorrigible," Freed said, rolling his eyes. Cana laughed.

Laxus leaned over and whispered in Freed's ear, "I love you, too."

Freed tried not to look pleased, but it was hard not to bounce in his seat. It still thrilled him to hear those words.

* * *

True to his word as always, Freed let Natsu freak out a while more.

"I'm starving," Natsu said, lying on the floor with his hands on his stomach. "I'm going to die."

"You can eat real food like a normal human," Lucy retorted, giving him no sympathy.

"It's not the saaaaame."

"What about fish?" Happy suggested, to nobody's surprise.

"I need…I  _need_  fire," Natsu wheezed dramatically. "My magic doesn't feel the same if I don't eat. I'm weaker. I'll stop being able to do anything. I'm feeling tired—don't look at me like that, Lucy! This is for real! I don't think I'll be able to get up."

Lucy sighed and returned to her book, but Gray, who was sitting on a bench beside his downed boyfriend, had begun to look worried.

"Are you actually weaker?" he asked.

Natsu glanced around to see if others were listening (somehow missing the group at the table who were all watching him). "A little."

Gray inhaled and exhaled, deeply, several times.

He was trying not to panic, Freed realized.

The plan had been to make Natsu freak out, not necessarily his boyfriend. With their goal accomplished, Freed grabbed the box of matches and started to rise.

Then he stopped himself, remembering his promise, and handed them to Laxus.

"It's time, don't you think?"

Laxus took the matches and headed toward the bar.

"Mira," he called nonchalantly, loud enough to be heard by the knot of people now immersed in Natsu's problems. "Try these."

Natsu's surprised shout when he  _was_  able to eat the fire was worth it.

"He has no clue it was you," Ever said. She'd joined them at the table earlier and watched the antics play out. "Doesn't that defeat the point?"

"We're going to drop a very clear hint later," Laxus said. "When he's not starving. I don't want him to 'accidentally' destroy the hall."

"You're so conscientious," Cana chuckled. "Well, fine. But I want to see when he realizes. His face will be priceless."

Freed rolled his eyes. "Yes, you'll get to see his reaction."

Cheering, she and Bickslow headed to the bar to get drinks.

They waited a half hour as Natsu devoured a bonfire's worth of flames, and then Laxus strode over to Mira again.

"Is he doing it?" Cana asked, watching Freed's eyes follow every step.

"Yes. Shh."

"Got anything to deal with a fucking splinter?" Laxus asked Mira.

Mira put on a sympathetic face. "From handling the torches?"

"Yup," Laxus said as she looked around behind the bar. "Fire is the fucking worst."

In his seat further down the bar, Natsu shot upright and looked over in suspicion. Then his eyes widened comically as he got it and his mouth fell open, dropping some half-chewed food.

Cana fell over herself trying to suppress her laughter. Bickslow and Ever were having a whispered conversation between chuckles—something about a wager. Freed smiled with the self-satisfied feeling of a job well done.

Instead of saying anything, Natsu turned to Gray and murmured something. Cottoning on much more quickly, Gray glared at Laxus and stood up bristling.

Laxus took that moment to let some sparks fly from his fingers.

"All better. Thanks, Mira. I can punch people again."

Gray seemed to reconsider. His eyes whipped around the hall and when he saw Freed, he marched over.

"What the hell?" Gray demanded. "You did this?"

"What?" Freed asked, meeting his gaze with a look of challenge.

"That's so underhanded. You…starved him! And made him freak out! Do you have any idea what Natsu's like when he's hungry? He could've brought the guildhall down on your head on accident. And," Gray looked down at Freed's arms, "that wouldn't go very well for you right now. Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?"

"Who are you threatening?" Laxus growled behind him.

Gray whirled. "I'm not threatening anyone. Just stating fucking facts—ones which would serve him right. You too, asshole."

Laxus raised his eyebrows. People long ago stopped being scared of him, but they didn't usually cuss him out.

"Serve us right for what?" Laxus asked.

"You know why," Gray said. Behind him at the table, Bickslow was unable to suppress a snort, and Gray turned on him and glared. "Shut it. It was a dastardly thing to do. And I know full well only Freed would think up something like that."

"Why do I have a reputation for cruelty?" Freed protested.

Gray gave him a withering look. "It has nothing to do with cruelty. Only you have the despicably serpentine brain capable of ideas like this."

"He has a point, Captain," Ever said.

Freed pouted at her. "Traitor."

"I've said what I wanted to say." Gray turned back to the bar where Natsu was eating yet another helping of fire. "If you ever make him hungry again—"

"—you'll, oh wait, let me guess…tell everyone Laxus gets motion-sick?" Freed asked.

"Or your boyfriend will start telling the whole guild about what he smells?" Laxus added, a slight sneer betraying his anger.

"You were the one who first talked about smells," Gray spat back.

"I didn't know!"

"Shit, people." Natsu walked up and slung an arm around Gray's shoulder, nearly toppling him. "You're all so sensitive and have so many secrets."

"What has you in a good mood?" Gray asked grumpily. The rest of the table was eying him in surprise.

"You're rather less upset than I expected," Cana interjected.

"Well, it was fair," Natsu said, grinning at Freed and Laxus. Turning back to Gray, he replied, "Why shouldn't I be in a good mood, icicle? I'm nice and full."

"I guess you are an idiot after all."

"Oi!" Natsu laughed.

Grinning suddenly, Gray punched while Natsu retaliated with fire. As the two exploded into brawl, Laxus sighed and put himself between them and Freed, who raised an eyebrow. Though Laxus said nothing, Freed knew what he was trying to do.

Laxus wasn't the only one with the thought, either.

"C'mon, Captain," Bickslow said, having his babies pick up their mugs and motioning toward a table in the corner.

"What?" Freed asked, even though he knew  _what._

"No fight for you. Come on," Ever said, pulling on his hand.

"I don't need a bunch of parents looking out for me," Freed grumbled, though he followed.

"You can't open the guild doors without wincing," Ever said. "Your arms bleed when you stupidly take the bandages off. How do you not see your limitations? You're acting spoiled."

Cana snickered.

"I'm not  _limited,_ " Freed retorted, a bit of his anger finally breaking. "I still have this."

Swiping his hand across the space, runes sparkled just as a chair flew their way. When Laxus reached out to grab it, the chair struck an invisible wall and stopped.

"I am not helpless," Freed said smugly.

"Point taken," Cana laughed.

"I apologize for his poor attitude," Evergreen told her with a long-suffering sigh.

Freed rolled his eyes.

"So all these pranks," Cana asked, "started because Laxus told the guild they were dating?"

"Not on purpose," Laxus grumbled for the hundredth time.

"Yep," Freed replied.

"Of  _course_  Natsu would retaliate for that," Bickslow laughed.

"It was big news at the time," Freed said. "Gray finally breaking his rule."

His team looked at him. "What rule?"

"His no-dating rule."

Cana nodded. "Everyone knows about that."

"No, they don't. He had a rule?" Bickslow asked.

Freed and Cana looked at each other and laughed. And Freed realized why he knew this and Cana knew this, and nobody else at the table knew it.

"Why do you think he was single for so long?" Cana told them. "Natsu is the first person he's actually had a relationship with."

"Really?" Ever's eyes widened. "I thought...I mean, hasn't everyone in the guild had relationships? Wow."

Next to Freed, Laxus shifted. No one else seemed to notice.

"He just didn't want to," Freed said with a shrug. "All he ever said was that it was his rule."

"Ah. So you just couldn't help sharing the news?" Bickslow asked, grinning at Laxus.

"For the last time, I did not realize they were keeping it secret," Laxus said. "I didn't know any of this gossip about rules and relationships. Mira was saying shit and I corrected her. That's all. And then Gray told everyone."

"So why did he get mad at you?"

Laxus flung his hands in the air. "Beats me."

"So you're just the hapless victim?" Bickslow asked, grinning.

"Fuck off," Laxus said without heat.

Bickslow grinned and the conversation turned to other things. Under the table, Laxus grasped Freed's hand.

Eventually Ever went off to flirt with a Strauss, and Bickslow and Cana declared a drinking contest which Freed and Laxus bowed out of. It left the pair of them alone in the corner booth, shadowed enough that Laxus felt comfortable kissing Freed's temple.

"You make life interesting," Laxus said.

"You like me even more after I came up with this prank," Freed said, grinning. "Admit it."

Meeting his eye, Laxus grinned back.

"A little. Maybe I just enjoy watching you be clever."

"It wasn't  _that_  clever."

"Oh, it so fucking is. If you did this to  _me_ —not sure how you'd take the lightning out of storms and replace it with mine, but if you could, it would piss me off. I'd fuck the weather up in spite. I  _hate_  having an empty stomach."

"You're so hungry all the time," Freed said, rolling his eyes. "All of you. I think Dragon Slayer magic takes a heavier toll on your bodies."

"Or maybe dragon hide and dragon teeth come with a dragon stomach."

"And dragon other things," Freed said slyly before he could stop himself.

Laxus turned fuchsia, but he'd gotten better about not freezing up at sex jokes. Bit by bit getting better at talking about sex in general.

"I like that assessment," Laxus said, smiling despite his embarrassment.

"That's because it's true," Freed said. He smiled up at Laxus. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm afraid you'll stop doing those  _dragon other things_  with me."

Laxus gave a good impression of an appalled gasp. "Never. Why on earth would I stop?"

It was clearly a joke. But the kind of joke it was…as if Laxus couldn't imagine  _not_  wanting Freed.

Tilting his head Freed gave him a funny little smile.

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said softly. "Like I said, I don't want you to stop."

"Except when you've lost too much blood."

"Or when  _you_  have, you irresponsible idiot. That happens more often."

Laxus rolled his eyes. "Or when you nearly lose your arms."

"That hasn't stopped you yet."

"True. But that's because your arms aren't a requirement to do...fun things."

"Well,  _I_  think it'll be more fun when I'm healed," Freed said, glaring down at his bandages. "I want to do things again. I want to...participate."

Beneath the table, Laxus put a hand his leg. It made Freed's heart speed up—even merely that. Every small sign of affection. His heart would be done for in this relationship.

"Soon, Freed," Laxus said.

"Not soon enough."

The smile Laxus gave him was open and genuine—not caught up in fear or anger or his past. Pure Laxus.

"Believe me, I don't mind waiting for you to heal," he said.

Smiling down at the tabletop, Freed squeezed his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you feel inclined! I love hearing from you.


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